


Seaspell

by WritingCactus



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Curses, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic, Major Character Undeath, Miscommunication, Phandom Big Bang 2018, Pirates, Prince Phil Lester, Sharing a Bed, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-28 19:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16729281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingCactus/pseuds/WritingCactus
Summary: A kiss, a curse, a quest.When Dan discovers that the prince of his kingdom and childhood best friend, Phil, has been been hidden away in the castle for years after his disappearance, he quickly understands why. A curse has been passed down through the Lester family for generations, marking Phil with magic and transforming him into a creature of the waves and sea, forcing him to hide from a kingdom that is afraid of the unknown. But curses are made to be broken, and Dan joins him on a journey across the ocean to find the Witch that cast the spell, as his own growing feelings and a hidden danger rise to the surface.





	1. The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to dapgos on tumblr for being my beta for this fic, she was such an incredible help in fixing my many grammar errors, bits of plot that were over-complicated, and when I just occasionally forgot to finish a sentence. This fic would not readable without all her hard work, so thanks! And also thank you to the wonderful artist for this fic, troyiesivanie on tumblr. Her art is incredible and I think it really enhances the story!!!  
> [Seaspell Playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3E1ezUeHmBotaxm7Fg9Vob) Some songs that I felt met the mood of the story or fit specific scenes or details. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though there are no major content warnings for this story (I left off main character death because though it's mentioned, nobody actually dies), any minor things will be indicated in these notes before each chapter. If themes of drowning bother you, this might not be the best fic to read, but thanks for clicking on it!

The night was alive. It was alive in the way that all the best ones are, with magic dancing through the people and the air and the ground beneath Dan’s feet. There was magic in the stars and the movement of the crowds and the laughter, bright and gold and rushing through it all. It wasn’t even his birthday, his night, and Dan could feel it. 

He ducked and darted his way through the edges of the crowd. It was just people here, shoving to get closer to the heart of the parade that wound down town’s main streets like an enormous snake of noise, stamping feet, and excitement. Instead of feeling tired from a long day’s work, or annoyed at the people pressing in on him from all sides, Dan felt as though all of them were held together in the same net of night-magic, bringing celebration into them all. It was rare for everyone to put off work like this when there was always so much to be done, but a Prince’s birthday was no small occasion. The entire kingdom of Cygnus celebrated it; people rushed into their seaside town for the festivities, the merchants put out all their best, most exotic wares, and the ports were overflowing with ships bringing in goods, all adding together for a few days of hectic wonder. It could be a pain to have so many people in the streets, sure, but it was always worth it when the parade rolled around. 

Dan pushed his way towards the busiest part of the crowd, where the royal family would be. Here, the festivities were in full swing. There were dancers dressed in elaborate, dazzling outfits, some meant simply to be eye catching while others took the shapes of an array of things: the silver scales of the fish that devoured the moon each night in his mother’s fairy tales; the bright, flowing fabrics in red and gold that represented the Beast-Slayer King of ages long ago; gowns made of a hundred tiny pieces of fabric in a rainbow of colors, made to look like a sea of flowers, and more. From legends to bits of everyday life to imitations of awe-inspiring creatures, real and otherwise, each caught his eye in turn as the dancers spun and shifted with the echoing beat of the music drifting down from the castle. The magic transformed them, too, until they were no longer dancers at all, but what they represented.

There were performers of every sort, too, blade eaters, singers, and acrobats, and he barely managed to keep himself from shrinking back when a tall woman with a body twisted like a snake spat green flame over his head. But the illusionist was Dan’s favorite. He made shining, feather-fine sparks of gold shoot from his fingertips, floating lightly through the air until they seemed to settle into the sky and fell no more. They lit up what felt like the whole kingdom, gold brightness dancing with the shadows across the stone path and the faces of the crowd, the light giving each person a split second of beauty before they were in shadow once more. 

Dan let himself fall under the spell just a second longer before stepping around a woman with a little boy on her shoulders, smiling to himself as the baby reached up for the distant sparks, gurgling. Even the most eagle-eyed of adults paid no mind to just one more kid, not on a night like this one. It was a part of the magic, to be shielded in such a small world filled with so many people. There were groups of teenagers clumped off to the sides, talking and laughing in the shadows but never straying too far from the light of the parade, while younger children trailed after their parents and siblings. There were plenty of kids his age, running and darting through the crowd with yells of laughter just as he was, but Dan didn’t join any of them. He was here for a reason, after all. 

As he got closer to the back of the parade, the crowds got even denser, until it seemed like nothing but people and joy. But he was determined, and with one more duck to the left, a side-step around a drunken adult, one more turn-- and he was face-to-face with Phil. The royal family didn’t technically join in the parade, remaining at the castle gates for the majority of the night as acts and crowds came to them. They waved and smiled, sometimes chatting with the ones brave enough to approach them, always open and friendly. Dan was glad that he’d never have to be in their place, since so much smiling seemed like it would get boring pretty quick. He was even gladder that, despite it being a celebration of Phil’s birthday, the prince wasn’t required to spend the _whole _parade waving.__

____

He was standing with his family, grinning out at the crowd, and Dan was happy to see that it looked sincere. The queen’s hands were on his shoulders, but he knew it was more to keep them from being seperated in the chaos than anything to do with control. She was nice like that. After the elegant, esteemed events that sounded terrible, he’d always hear stories from Phil of young royalty who weren’t allowed to do so much as yawn without being told off for it and had to spend all day studying etiquette and history. He’d told the story with an exaggerated shudder, and neither of them could imagine what kind of life that would be. Even Martyn, Phil’s older brother and the one in line for the throne, was allowed to live his own life, though he did get a bit more training. The Queen and King were certain that their sons would learn everything they needed to, sooner or later. Dan was pretty sure it was this same leniency that allowed him and Phil to be friends in the first place, especially when it sometimes felt like they came from entirely different worlds. Phil never mentioned it, probably to spare his feelings, but Dan knew that there were places where a noble, much less a prince, giving him a second glance would be looked down upon. It hit him, sometimes, when he marveled at Phil’s fancy clothes or when his own handwriting was only as good as it needed to be for bookkeeping and not fancy script because teachers were expensive, just how different their lives could be. 

____

But tonight was not a night for worrying about any of that. Not for him, or Phil, or even the king and queen, whose job was to worry. It was a night for celebration, a night for dancing, laughing, and getting lost in the crowd, which was exactly what they planned to do. It would have been rude to run directly up to the royal family, at least with so many people around, so he waved and waved and waved until Phil finally saw him, watching as he burst into an even bigger smile before turning to pull his mom down so he could whisper at her. Dan rocked back and forth on his feet, the tiny bit more of waiting seeming unbearable now that he was _right there _. She was supposed to know about their plan to enjoy the parade together, like usual, but what if she’d changed her mind? Phil was turning thirteen after all, an age that came with responsibility, while Dan still had a whole year to go. It was annoying to be so far behind, but he would catch up eventually, he was sure of it.__

______ _ _

Mrs. Lester nodded her head yes, smiling at Dan, and then Phil slipped away into the crowd next to him. Without a word, they were off, ready to get everything out of the magic that they could. First it was back to the performers, swaying in the light of the sparks as the dancers twirled on and on until they were nothing more than a blur. Then the magician spotted them, or rather he spotted Phil, bowing to him with a tip of his hat. As he did, a whole clump of incredible, bright red flowers with their very own glow appeared, no, grew right up out of his hat, sprouting leaves and blooming and everything. They burst into giggles of amazement, and, when the flowers were passed on to Phil, Dan snatched one out of his hands, careful not to lose any petals, and set it behind the prince’s ear along with his crown, laughing. In return, he got a handful of petals thrown right into his hair and down the back of his very best clothes, though he couldn’t have cared. Instead, he just yelped, faking indignance as Phil darted away, racing to catch up with him. Phil was taller, and a little faster, but Dan was more used to crowds, setting them just about even as the ran and ducked and got occasionally yelled at for bumping into adults. Of course, neither of them were listening, not tonight. 

______ _ _

The race stopped when they reached the seemingly endless tables stacked high with food because their hunger was worth more than pride. Kabobs of meat, pies filled with vegetables and gravy, and tiny little cups of fancy soups, all the way down to small, sugary cakes decorated in every kind of pattern and color, donuts dusted in sprinkles of sugar, and bowls of exotic sweets filled the trays. There was a massive cake, too, a few pieces missing already, though most of the revelers were still entranced by the parade. Even with the gaps, the royal family’s crest was still clearly apparent.

______ _ _

The deep blues and greens of the sea that had first allowed their great kingdom to prosper covered the lower third of it, and then, on a cliff that rose sharply from the ocean, was the simple figure of a man, shield and sword clutched tightly in his hands as he fended off a terrible beast, just barely out of view, but the terrible, curling flames it produced filled enough of the space to make clear the danger it held. That was their First King, the Beast-Slayer King, a very-very-very distant relative of Phil’s who had saved his small village from ruin by suggesting trade of their few resources across the sea, leading to prosperity. He had saved them a second time when, once his people were flourishing, a cruel monster of some kind had attacked in a jealous rage. What exactly the creature was had been lost with time, but even the smallest child knew that it was evil right to its very core, and used the magic that went just as deep for nothing but harm against the people. 

______ _ _

The story and its monster had scared Dan when he was younger, but now, he simply grabbed a slice of the cake, ducking down beneath the table cloth with Phil to put as much sugar into his small body in as short a time as was humanly possible. They ate and talked and laughed, Dan slumping his back up against Phil’s shoulder so they sat in a sort of corner, his laziness winning over how bony Phil was. The night carried here too, making the little tablecloth a barrier around their very own miniature kingdom where everything was just as it was meant to be. He was so happy that his heart ached, to be here with his best friend in this land and every other.

______ _ _

“...And then, when Martyn’s all grown up and Dad’s passed the crown on to him, I’ll get him to appoint you to be a... a count, or something, as long as it means you get to come to everywhere with me, because everyone else will just want to talk about getting married and taxes and things like that,” Phil laughed, pulling a face.

______ _ _

“Ugh. I couldn’t imagine having to go to those things all by myself,” Dan agreed. They certainly sounded glamorous, but very, very boring, where everyone just worried about which of the unmarried young people danced with each other, and who didn’t dance together, and what it all meant. “And if I’m a count, then everyone will get flour from our mill, and we’ll be famous all over the kingdom!” He crowed, jumping out from underneath the table, very nearly knocking it over in the process and startling a merchant woman into falling over herself. 

______ _ _

People were moving away from the parade and into the open courtyard now, the band that usually played at said terrible parties playing something much livelier for people to dance to. They’d both agreed that they were both too old and too young to dance, since only the little children did so clumsily and only the adults did it with grace, and they could do neither. It was sappy anyway, and everyone else their age seemed to agree. He watched for a moment as a girl reached down from a tree to pull one boy and then another up into its branches with her, clinging to it for dear life so as not to fall back down, all just a little older than him.

______ _ _

Still, the music had that same drawing enchantment to it as everything right then, and he couldn’t help to sway to it slightly as he and Phil stood at the edge of the crowd. He spotted the piles and piles of gifts, meant more as an act of politeness to the royal family than as a real present for Phil, off to the side, and remembered his own gift, suddenly nervous. 

______ _ _

“Oh, I have something for you,” he said, talking loud over the din of partygoers. Before Phil could say anything and before he could think about it anymore, he pulled the necklace out of his pocket. It wasn’t anything close to the other jewels that Phil was probably going to get, but it was the best that he could afford with three month’s allowance and a little extra money his mother had slipped him, pressing a finger to her lips in a sign not tell his father with a sparkle in her eye. It wasn’t even as nice as the wedding gems his own parents had exchanged, passed down on both sides for generations before being swapped to the other with their vows, that stayed locked safely on their dresser until nights like this. It was plain in comparison, but it would be enough.

______ _ _

It was a medium stone, smooth and flat, about the size of a coin. The thin, silvery chain it hung from was nice enough, but what had really caught his attention was the colors of the stone. It was a strange mix of mostly blue with thin swirls of green, and when he held it into the sunlight, he could just barely see flecks of yellow and it had immediately reminded him of Phil. He’d come back every day before he had enough money just to make sure it was still there, until the kind woman behind the stand with at least three gold teeth and a nose that had been broken more than once promised to keep it safe for him. 

______ _ _

Now he held it up so that Phil could see it, suddenly terrified that he would hate it, or that it was weird that he’d gotten him a necklace, or that he hadn’t wanted a gift at all. There was a horrible moment where Phil’s eyes went wide and he simply reached out to cup it in the palm of his hand, and Dan felt his stomach drop. Then he was smiling in that way that made his heart thump so fast without him knowing why, with his tongue out and eyes all crinked, and he let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Dan, this is incredible! You really got it for me?” He gasped, awed, and Dan smiled back.

______ _ _

“Yeah, it’s not anything special, but I hope you like it,” He answered, trying his best not to get shy because that would be really dumb.

______ _ _

“Of course I love it! I’d probably love anything you got me, as long as it wasn’t just the worst, but this is really, really great. I’m gonna wear it all the time. Hey, can you help me put it on?” He nodded, and Phil turned. His hands felt clumsy as he looped it around his neck and latched it together again, trying real hard not to think about the strange pain in his chest that just wouldn’t leave him alone tonight. Phil turned back around, looking down at the pendant. Dan only realized that he was still standing a little too close and sort of staring at him when he looked up from it and met his eyes, both of them freezing. That’s why the pendant reminded him of Phil, he thought: it looked just like his eyes. It was a distant thought, quiet under the sound of the crazy jack-rabbit pounding of his heart as the world pin-pointed down to the two of them, to Phil’s wide eyes and fast breath. Their faces were really, really close.

______ _ _

When they kissed it was impossible to know which one had moved closer first, or if it was both of them at once. All Dan knew was that oh, they were kissing. It was nothing more than a quick, awkward press of lips, neither of them really having any idea of what to do, but it was a kiss all the same. He pulled back, terribly afraid that he’d messed up somehow and now Phil was gonna hate him, but it was to find him smiling again, his face red in the golden glow of the magician’s sparks. All he could do was grin for a moment, their faces still close, nothing to say as the magic rushed through him.

______ _ _

But then Phil’s brother was calling for him and it was time for him to go and thank everyone for their gifts and wishes for another good year, and he was gone, giving him a little wave and a dopey grin before sprinting away, yelling that he was coming. Dan couldn’t mind though, not with the giddy joy settling into his heart, like he was either going to collapse or burst into song. He settled for just gazing after him, though, watching from the crowd as the king said a few words before Phil came up and thanked everyone to thunderous applause. He was being formal now, polite and serious and princely, but the necklace was still around his neck, and Dan could see even from there that he was smiling more than usual.

______ _ _

His parents dragged him home before he could see Phil again, even just to say goodbye, and Dan was left to twist and turn in bed all night, too energized to do anything else. Replaying the kiss again and again in his mind, one question remained: what now? It had meant something. He was sure of it, for once in his life. Just quite what, well, that was less sure. But he’d see Phil again tomorrow, and then he’d have the answers he needed.

______ _ _

Obviously Dan hardly slept, even when the night-magic had faded, because he had his very own magic, held tightly in his ribcage along with the butterflies. When he did finally shut his eyes, it was to see the gold glow of magician’s stars and a deep blue nighttime, waking him early. He stayed in bed just as long as he could, until it was absolutely, horridly unbearable when he felt like this. Even creeping around in the before dawn shadows wasn’t much help, not when everything was gentle and hushed and exactly the opposite of him. All he wanted was to see Phil again, to figure out everything between them.

______ _ _

Dan set about doing all of his chores for the day, feeding the chickens and watering the vegetable patch and sweeping the main room of the house just as his parents began to stir. From there he trailed after his dad to the mill, the few hours of helping out he did agonizing. He’d jump up to help every time he was even close to needed just to have something to distract himself, but most of his time was still spent anxiously waiting around. Eventually, his dad shook his head, sighed, and told him to just go already, since his pacing was distracting.

______ _ _

Dan was out the door before he even finished, sprinting out of the mill and down the little stone path, nearly toppling in his hurry. It was warm for wintertime, though Cygnus didn’t have the severe, frostbitten cold of the Northern Kingdoms, and the sun-soaked air was almost warm around him. The trees still had most of their leaves from such a mild fall. The loose stone path shifted to the cobbled streets of town, shops and houses sprouting up around him as he went. It was slower going here, with neighbors and travelers and fancy carts to dodge, but Dan was an expert. Soon enough, he reached a rather plain clump of bushes on the edge of the street. He took a glance around to see if anyone was watching, though he knew it wasn’t really necessary; nobody cared what one more scruffy kid did, but it made him feel just a little bit important, to have a secret. Seeing no one, he ducked through a gap in the leaves, followed a rough, overgrown imitation of a path through bit of shrubbery, and arrived at their spot.

______ _ _

It was a small clearing in the scrubby underbrush, a little tree growing in the middle that was just perfect for leaning against. They’d discovered it when they were first becoming friends, back when Dan’s mom had worked as a maid in the castle and he’d tagged along with her to stay out of trouble. It had been their very own little sanctuary from then on, seeing as most of the other kids were too intimidated to talk to the prince, as friendly as Phil was. Dan mulled this over as he sat beneath the tree, and then mulled it over some more, because Phil wasn’t there yet. More time passed, and Dan was trying to convince himself not to worry, a battle quickly lost. He’d gotten there early in his excitement, after all. But what if Phil didn’t want to see him anymore? What if he’d ruined everything forever? 

______ _ _

The sun was threatening to dip beneath the trees before he finally gave up and left. It was strange; if Phil was busy, he would usually let him know in person beforehand that he wouldn’t be able to come. It made sense, when he had lessons on all sorts of things, beyond just reading and writing to etiquette, history, painting, and politics. But they’d agreed to meet today and go to the cliffs to swim, and he hadn’t heard anything otherwise. 

______ _ _

Dan waited every afternoon at their tree for five days, his very own eternity. Nobody came, not even a servant from the castle to let him know that Phil was busy. On the sixth day of pushing down the terrible, sickly worry that this was all his fault somehow, Dan finished his chores, waited patiently until his dad was finished with the mill, and went the back way to the castle. It was a path for servants to get in without the fanfare that came with opening the main gates, though just as well guarded. He let the guards check him for weapons, both remaining strangely quiet when they usually chatted and ruffled his hair. It unsettled him, but there were more important things to think of than distracted guards. He made it just a few steps in the familiar direction of Phil’s room before he was interrupted.

______ _ _

“Dan!” A voice called, urgent, and he was surprised to see that it was the queen. She looked weirdly frazzled, her hair unkempt and eyes tired. Her crown remained on her head, but it hadn’t been polished for days. Mrs. Lester was usually put-together, but more importantly, she was also usually smiling. Seeing her like this stopped him in his tracks. “Your Majesty, have you seen Phil? He hasn’t come over--” He pushed on, more urgent than before, but the Queen made a strange choked noise, staring blankly at him, and he stopped once more. 

______ _ _

“Are… are you okay? Is _he _okay?” He asked, his voice sounding much too small. The Queen paused for a long moment, gaze darting around the empty hall, before she knelt down to his level, eyes watery and red. When she spoke next, Dan felt his world tilt on its axis.__

________ _ _ _ _

To avoid heartbreak, the rest of the kingdom was told that Phil would be attending a very prestigious boarding school in a kingdom distant enough that it was easy to forget about and hard to verify. Only family and a few close friends were invited to the funeral. They’d each been sworn to secrecy, pleaded to it by the royal family to make this easier, for all of them. Dan remembered none of the service, just the incredible feeling that he was missing half of his heart mixed with a heavy sort of blankness. He stood, feeling very small in his shabby best clothes, surrounded by a few adults and their hushed, sympathetic voices.

________ _ _ _ _

The casket was moved discreetly in the night to avoid questions, up a faded path to the family’s sepulchre, leaving Dan with so much left to say. Just like that, he was all alone in the world, with a secret that weighed heavy on his heart and the only one who could have understood it gone. It clawed at him from the inside out, a slow, constant ache with no cure to be found. The night went on.

________ _ _ _ _

* * *

_Ten Years Later ___

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Dan sighed, rolling his shoulders as he waited in line. It had been a day full of work, clearing what was left of their garden from last season and delivering flour from the mill all over town. The bakery was his last stop, and though they’d already made the delivery, he’d told his dad to go on ahead of him with the cart and that he’d catch up later. He reached the front of the line and paid absentmindedly, setting out. The streets were busy now, everyone finishing their daily work and heading home to eat dinner with their families at once. Dan was headed there too, he was just had to take a detour first. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Dan reached the top of the cliffs with his head in the clouds, the dirt path turning to smooth stone beneath his boots. He sat down against the cobbled stone wall, staying there in silence for a long moment. It was cold, even through his best jacket, but the evening sun softened the chill just slightly. Eventually, he picked up the piece of cake he’d bought at the bakery, cutting it in half as best he could and setting one piece down on the mausoleum edge. He ate the other slowly, staring out across the sea. He was a day early in his celebration, but tomorrow he’d be out in the countryside, and it hurt too much not to have come at all this year. Finally, the sun began setting, making a twilight out of the cloudy sky, and he gathered up his plate and stood.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Happy birthday, Phil,” he said to the tomb.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

That same old sadness tugged at him as he began the walk back down the cliff, but Dan was more than used to it by now. He would be busy tomorrow, delivering the rest of the wheat out into the countryside, and it had been ten years. Phil was a memory, a faded one, but he had also been his best friend. They’d fit together so easily right from the start, like they’d always been in the other’s life, always would be. And just like that, he was gone. He told himself that it was a distant ache, no use worrying about it now. It was then that he picked up his pace, determined to get home. There was no changing what had already happened. He was looking forward from now on, to the future and what lay ahead, and not back towards that past. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

This was precisely what doomed him. It was because he was looking ahead that his next step fell just a little too close to the edge of the cliffside path and the ground beneath him gave way.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

From there, Dan fell in three parts. First, he realized that he was falling, lurching sideways, and he grabbed at anything, hands coming up empty. Next, there was a moment of suspension, almost like he was floating, his mind still a few paces behind his body’s reactions as his feet left the ground. And finally, he was really falling, a rush of wind around his ears and blank fear. He watched, as though from a distance, as the waves surged up eagerly to meet him. A brilliant flash of cold when they swallowed him, and he was jerked back into awareness, the panic nearly overwhelming. His limbs refused to move. He felt, was, chilled to the bone, arms and legs moving molasses-slow, his jacket only pulling the freezing water closer to his heart and weighing him down. He fought and fought, terror stricken, but it was no use. There is nothing a human body wishes to do more than breathe, and breathe he did. The waves had won from the moment his foot slipped.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

The tiny patch of sky above him began to fade at the edges. Just before the world went dark, something moved into his sight, the shape of a man, or almost a man, with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, blue eyes that managed to shine even in an ocean of the color.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Oh, thought Dan as his body went numb and the world was swallowed in darkness, he’s wearing a pendant just the color of his eyes.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Pasts and Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief mention of vomit in the second paragraph.

Dan would’ve thought that he was dead, at first, except dead people couldn’t feel incredible amounts of pain and he certainly could. When he’d registered that he was alive, the next step was to force his eyes open. He saw Phil’s ghost sitting at his bedside. No, not Phil’s ghost. Definitely Phil, but he no longer matched Dan’s memories of him from his thirteenth birthday with lanterns glowing behind him, seared into his brain. Instead, he had grown into a man right along with him, and it was almost as jarring as him being back from the dead. Almost.  


“What the fuck?” Dan rasped out, and then he threw up onto the floor next to the bed he was in. He was left heaving, feeling impossibly worse both physically and emotionally, because really, what? He remembered visiting Phil’s grave, falling, and losing himself beneath the waves, so how did he get here? Though that was just the start of his problems at the moment.  


“Is he alright?” asked not-dead Phil, seeming worried, which would have been nice if Dan hadn’t expected, y’know, a corpse. A woman rushed over, the black shawl of a healer draped over her shoulders.  


“He’s fine, your highness. Just a side effect of the magic. It will be out of his system in no time with no lasting physical damage,” she explained. Well, at least that answered the question of his own not-deadness. Healers, rare as they were, were often paid well for sticking close to royals in case of emergencies within the family or plagues in their kingdom. With their skill, most minor wounds, ailments, and accidents could be reversed or at least eased, though there were always limits to even the most powerful of magics. Or at least he’d thought there were, Dan noted, staring warily at Phil.  


He looked strange, and it wasn’t just his presence or the sudden maturity. No, even more than that, he seemed nervous, constantly glancing around the medical wing. And the closer he looked, the more he realized that something about him was off, ten years be damned. It wasn’t really something he could see, like his own eyes had glazed over just the tiniest bit, and the longer he stared, the less he could make out. But nothing else around him seemed hard to look at, just Phil. If he could just focus… but his head felt like one of the stuffed dolls his mum dad sometimes just to keep his hands busy, full of nothing.  


“You’re dead!” Dan managed, loudly, not caring that it made Phil look a little uncomfortable, because hey, he’d almost just died himself. He’d probably have to deal with that emotionally at some point.  


“I know, I know I just--” Phil started, trying to shush him, but Dan was not going to be shushed. Not today, with blood pounding in his ears and his mouth still tasting bitterly of salt water.  


“Clearly, you don’t know, because you’re here!” He pushed himself into a sitting position, just in time for the Queen herself to rush in. Phil looked sheepish at her approach, but all he could feel was confusion and panic.  


“Dan, thank goodness you’re okay!” She scooped him into a hug that was slightly painful both physically and in terms of awkwardness, because she was his monarch. He’d been as comfortable with her as he could’ve been as a kid with her being the Queen and all, but after Phil… there had been no reason for Dan to visit the castle or see the royal family except at a distance, and even then he’d avoided getting too close. It had been just another reminder of what was missing. Speaking of which, he glared at Phil over her shoulder, not knowing what else to do. “We were very worried about you. Now, I’m sure you have questions.” She raised her hands to stop him before he could even open his mouth, quite an impressive feat. “Is he well enough to stand?” The healer nodded, and Dan sort of doubted it, but the ache that came with walking was probably worth some actual answers.  


He hobbled his way after the pair, feeling slightly better with each step, surely the healer’s careful work. Phil’s whole body seemed to be doing that strange misty sort of thing, he saw, making him hard to look at up close. But on a much more important note, Dan realized that he was taller than Phil now, if only by a little bit. Years of childish jealousy finally found catharsis within him, and he stood up straighter, near-death experience or not.  


Finally, they stopped in an elegant music room, clearly not used for much of anything in a long, long time, judging by the amount of dust covering everything. There were instruments hanging over the walls, stacked on the shelves, and set out over the floor. It made him flinch just to think about how out of tune everything must have been. Mrs. Lester turned to him, smiling gently.  


“Now, Dan, we clearly owe you a bit of an explanation. Wherever you’d like to start works just fine.”  


“Right! How is he alive? And why does he look like… that?” Dan asked, the height of eloquence, pointing at Phil.  


“Hey!” he said, but his mom ignored him.  


“That’s what I would’ve asked if I was in your situation, and I’m so glad that we finally have the answers for you.” She sounded genuine, only making him more curious. “We did always want to tell you, Phil more than anyone, but it just wasn’t a risk we could take, considering the circumstances. I’m sorry it took so long, and that it had to be this way,” she said, and he wondered what they should’ve told him. That they’d somehow reanimated Phil after the funeral, but that it would be too awkward to reveal him? It had been some sort of elaborate, kingdom-wide prank gone too far? Neither seemed likely, but as he’d find out, the truth was even unlikelier.  


“If I accept your apology, will you tell me now?” he asked, only half joking, but at least he was starting to feel like himself again.  


“Of course. We couldn’t have been prepared for it, really, there was no warning at all. But on Phil’s birthday, I’m sure you know which one, in the middle of the night he…he changed.” She broke off, sounding wistful and not quite sure how to pin down what happened next, and Dan was going to lose it if he didn’t get the full story soon..  


“Can I show him?” Phil finally asked, looking earnest about whatever was going on. Dan really didn’t know how to feel about anything, him especially. He was glad that he was alive, obviously, but that was complicated by the surprise and that he had spent a decade living alone in the world they’d built together, half abandoned. He felt as though there was a sort of wall between them, locking them apart, and he’d left the key in a jacket that was far too small now. And whatever was coming next, whatever the big secret was, just made it worse. The Queen nodded, and he watched as Phil unclipped a small pin from his shirt, dropping it carelessly to the ground. With it fell that shroud of mist and haze, and then Dan saw him as he really was.  


Phil was no longer human, not quite. There were thick lines of oil-and-water blues and greens tracing their way down his neck and spiraling out across what he could see of his arms, shining with a magic so vibrant that even he knew it for what it was in a moment. They even curled up from onto his face in thin lines, following the line of his jaw to branch into curves beneath his eyes. And there was a set of a different sort of mark, nothing more than three perfect scratches, on each side of his throat, but Dan could only wonder at what they were for. His ears were just barely pointed enough for him to notice, along with the smooth, unnatural sharpness of his nails as he anxiously wrung his hands together. Even his eyes were brighter than before.  


Dan took half a step back in surprise, then moved forward again to get a closer look. Of course, he knew the stories of magic like this. The kind that was used for more than just healing or entertaining, the kind that settled within a person. For them to control, or to control them, though he wasn’t sure which this type was. He’d heard the stories as a child to spook lessons into him and in the tavern at night as the older folk tried to one up each other with what they’d lived to see. Dan had just never expected to this kind of magic in his life. This was the kind that didn’t quite reach the light of daily life, of talk and laughter and easy, ordinary things, the kind that belonged in stories and shadows.  


Dan knew, too, that people feared it. There were legends of terrible witches and cruel wizards, everlasting curses, and beasts who would never sate their famine, no matter how much they ate. The things on the edges of the forest that took pleasure in tricking and taunting the normal folk, taking their sheep, leaving strange marks on the doors, or bringing bad luck onto a place for some perceived wrong. The woman who sold the largest sunflowers in the kingdom wore a talisman across each wrist and one over her heart and had warned him once to stay away from the cliffs at night. He’d heard the story of a child, no older than four, bringing endless torrents of rain over the land dozens of times from the neighbor who had traveled there from a far off-kingdom and who watched the skies carefully from his porch. There was a girl his age who had mentioned casually the elaborate ceremony her family had put her through at the age of ten, a quiet ritual done in the hopes of keeping her grandfather’s strange spells and paranoia from showing in her, and she had the fire-etched scars on her feet prove it. He began to understand, in pieces, why the strange magic moving across Phil’s skin had been kept a secret from a kingdom that was afraid, because fear was a dangerous thing.  


“What is it?” he asked. Both of them were still wound tight, his reaction unclear.  


“It’s a curse,” Phil explained finally, not quite looking at him. “Not my own, but the healers and oracles say it was carried down in our blood, only showing up every once in awhile. There are no mentions of it in any family records, but it might have hit others, too.”  


“So the curse is just that you look like that?” Magic like that could be enough, especially in the Kingdom’s beloved prince, but now Phil looked really uncomfortable.  


“It’s a bit more complicated. I can’t describe it, but I can show you tonight.” It came out as more of a question than anything, sounding nervous enough that Dan stopped himself from raising his eyebrows at the particular implications of tonight just to bug him.  


“Alright. I mean, I’ve come this far. Also, uh, do you have any clothes that aren’t wet?”  


Fortunately, the very-well stocked home of the literal king and Queen did have at least one pair of clothes that hadn’t fallen into the ocean, which he happily changed into. From there, it was just a matter of waiting until nightfall to find out more. And, well, processing everything he’d already learned, he supposed. Finding out that his dead best friend was not in fact dead, and also very cursed, could be a little much. He picked at the very fancy threads of his very fancy guest bed, thinking. Dan wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to be mad or not, considering that he’d been lied to for ten years at the cost of one of the most important people in his life. That loss had never really left him, not quite; even as he grew up and away from his mourning, found other friends, fell in and out of love, and filled his days with work, there was always such an empty space at his side. On the other hand, being suddenly cursed was a pretty good excuse, especially when it was so evident across his skin. It would’ve been so much easier to soften the blow, to have a distant prince or the memory of a loved one than to hide the truth in plain sight. In the end, he decided to just be slightly irritated but sympathetic.  


Over any moral issues, though, the curiosity gnawed at him as to what the full extent of the curse was. So after a very awkward family-and-Dan dinner in a tucked away dining room, the sun finally getting low in the sky, he pushed down any unease and rushed to follow Phil into old, forgotten parts of the castle that he’d never seen before.  


He certainly hadn’t guessed that the building had a massive set of tunnels, cellars, and vaults beneath it, slowly slanting down and down, but to be fair he also hadn’t guessed that Phil was alive and well. It was cold down here with all the ancient stone, and he pulled his newly warm jacket tighter around himself, wondering what this place could’ve possibly been built for then realizing that he was about to find out.  


“Um,” said Phil, his voice still both familiar and strange to him. “This part of the curse I can do any time, like when I found you last night. But at nightfall on the thirtieth, I don’t get a choice.”  


“Your birthday,” Dan added. Today. If all had gone to plan, he would have been miles away, working and too busy to celebrate, but things clearly had not gone to plan. He thought about Phil’s face beneath the waves, the memory blurred, and wondered.  


“Yeah. And with this one, it hurts a lot more and I can’t stop it or anything. I can’t really control much of anything, it just sort of--” He waved his hands. “Happens to me.” It came out in a way that sounded just the tiniest bit sad, even in that stranger’s voice. Not to mention the part about it hurting, brushed away with a casualness that seemed wrong. Now, though, Dan wasn’t sure what to say, if he was meant to say anything at all. That’s the problem when someone un-dies after ten years, a bit of a disconnect. Fortunately, they seemed to reach whatever room Phil was headed for, saving him from the torture of thinking of an apology or a question or anything at all. They stopped at an ornate red door that had been in the damp wall for a long, long time, judging from the faded gildings and paint.  


Dan did not expect the waves on the other side of it. They weren’t at his feet by any means, but an ocean within a castle was generally a surprise. The door lead to something between a room and a cave, stone tiles fading into smooth stone walls and a sanded floor as the room spread and opened into a tunnel filled with the sea, just a hint of the sunset at the end of it. The bit that was more castle and less water had an armoire with a pile of blankets stacked on top of it, a bookshelf, and a small desk with an even smaller chair tucked into the corner. A child’s desk, he realized with a pit in his stomach. Phil moved into the room with a familiarity and Dan followed, sitting cross-legged on the floor, since it would be a bit before nightfall yet. He wasn’t quite sure how long the rest of this curse would take.  


And then Phil started taking his shirt off.  


“Um?” Dan said with just the appropriate amount of alarm for the situation, and Phil jumped, nearly falling over, which would have been bad because both of his arms were tangled in said shirt.  


“Sorry, sorry! I should have warned you!” he yelped, barely staying on his feet.  


“Uh, _yeah _. Did you forget I was here?”  
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“Not really, it’s just so routine for me, I guess. I uh, do need to take my shirt off though, or it’ll rip. You would not believe how long it took me to remember that.” He shook his head at himself, and Dan made a ‘go ahead’ motion with his hands. As long as he knew what was happening, he wasn’t going to keel over from seeing someone shirtless, even if it involved magic somehow. And if the curse had the force to rip through clothes, even if the clothes of nobles was already pretty flimsy, he could deal with a little awkwardness.  


Like he’d thought, the ribbons of deep blues and greens that shifted and caught the light trailed down onto Phil’s chest, over his ribs and shoulders, seeming pressed into his skin. He knew he was staring, but that seemed pretty justified given the circumstances. Though Phil had always been pale, this was something else entirely, another mark of this strange magic. Behind him, the sun continued its descent.  


“When the sun sets, you uh, you don’t have to watch it happen, I wouldn’t blame you.” Phil said, still not wanting to elaborate on whatever show he was in for, but Dan shook his head. If he was going to understand why his best friend had been locked away from him for so long, that meant seeing the full effects of the curse even if it was terrifying or disturbing or embarrassing. Phil paced back and forth across the sand for a bit, darkness beginning to stretch heavy across the sky, until his bare feet were submerged in the lapping water. He fell into an easy pattern of watching him move as they waited, the sounds of the sea and the cries of its birds comforting. And then the sun finally dipped below the horizon, painting the light with strokes of hazy purple and light pinks and oranges that never failed to take his breath away. Phil froze.  


First a shudder ran through him, and then another, until he doubled over, falling to his knees in the water as Dan watched in awe. From there, everything started happening at once. It looked for a moment like something thin was pushing its way up from the line of his spine in a way that made bile rise in Dan’s throat, but he couldn’t look away as the skin broke. A thin, dark spine shot from the base of the back of his neck, curling down his back, while something much larger came out along the rest of his spine. At the same time, Phil wrapped his hands desperately across his ribs, letting out a pained hiss of air, and Dan saw that the nails that before had just been a little sharp had grown and stretched into wicked claws, set against webbed hands that ran with that green-blue magic. Then his entire body convulsed, twisting in ways that should have broken him. Maybe it was breaking him, Dan thought, watching in muted horror as something changed, starting at his waist, glittering shards pushing through. Scales, he realized, eyes dancing over him. Returning to his back, a huge fin was unfurling from between his shoulder blades, glittering turquoise in last light off the sea and stopping at the small of his back. His attention snapped back to his legs just to see that they were no longer legs at all, his pants left in shreds in the water. Instead, a tail was forming, limbs shifting and fading into scales and fins until the it was as long as his torso and then longer still. A fin curved out at the end, and two more ran down from beneath Phil’s arms and down the sides of his torso and tail, framing him. Partially submerged, his tail and fins glittered with green and blue, along with the patches of scales scattered his shoulders and ribs. Dan hadn’t realized Phil was screaming until he stopped, the noise choking off into a gag.  


He unfolded himself slowly, pushing himself up with shaking arms as waves lapped over his body, breathing hard. His ears had sharpened into short points, the lines on his body glowing brightly now along with his eyes, enough to cast just a flash of light in the half-dark. But the curse hadn’t finished taking its payment yet. After a moment, he stopped panting, stiffening as his hands shot to his neck, nails scrabbling against the skin for a moment. The thin horizontal lines on each side of his throat etched themselves deeper, widening until they were unmistakably gills, and only then did the change leave him. Phil sank down so just his head was above the water, the tension bleeding out of him.  


Alright then.  


The room, the cavern, whatever it was, stood silent for a long moment as both of them recovered in their own way. All Dan knew for sure that he was not afraid of him. Amazed, maybe, of the magic that coursed through his body and the change that had overtaken him, or empathetic for the pain that came with it, but not afraid. This was Phil, after all, and no matter how many stones time had stacked between them, they had grown up together. All the curse did was change the way he looked and, more importantly, the way other people saw him, but not who he was. It didn’t matter how human he appeared, he knew it with a sudden certainty that came as a shock. He was no less a prince and no less a person. Though he was unknown and ethereal and so clearly touched by magic, lying there in the waves, Phil looked more scared than anything. His eyes searched Dan’s, waiting for a reaction, and he knew, too, that in this moment he had the power needed to make Phil a monster, to cry wolf and spread fear. Instead, he sat back down on the sand, facing him in the waves.  


Phil opened his mouth to say something, revealing pointed teeth, which would _not _sit well with the average fisherman or wandering villager, he thought. Instead of words, a strange trilling noise came out, and he smacked a web hand on his forehead, looking exasperated with himself. After ducking down so his gills were in water once more, he pointed to his throat, and then covered his mouth.  
__

____

“You can’t talk like this.” He realized, receiving a nod in return. It looked like Phil was going to gesture something else, but his head snapped towards the waves before he could start, staring out into the inky blackness. It was pulling at him, dragging him out into the depths with both the current and the curse. When Phil turned back around, his eyes were no longer quite his own, burning with something ancient, a spell that wouldn’t allow him to linger. He nodded, once, and Dan gave a little wave in return. Then he turned into deeper water, movements shifting from awkward to a sort of inhuman grace as he submerged, tail pushing fluidly into the water. He disappeared into the waves.

Obviously, Dan didn’t sleep that night. Not only had he been passed out for nearly fourteen hours while the healer worked, but there was just no way for him to get his mind to stop spinning no matter how long he forced his eyes closed. He lay there, the minutes ticking by slower and slower on the elegant clock across his guest room, and considered. He had been mad, somewhere in the back of his heart, at the Lesters for taking his friend away, for not telling him the truth, for leaving him all alone with nothing but a grave to mourn at. But now that he knew the full extent of why…  


It still hurt some, couldn’t stop so easily after so many years of loss and trying desperately to forget. But now he was sure that it had hurt Phil and his family twice as much, with a magic like that.  


He thought about what the first night must have been. About Phil waking up, on the night of his birthday, to the pain of a curse that someone else deserved, burning him in the dark. He’d been nothing more than a child. About how, when he turned back in the morning, the marks did not fade, snatching away the hope of a life that belonged to him. About the doctors that were called in, and the court healers, and the spellcasters from all over the kingdom, all parading into the castle to fix the prince, hide the marks, control a magic older than all of them. It had been two weeks before the lies were told to the kingdom, he remembered.  


He thought about the way Phil’s body had twisted as though trying to get away from itself during the transformation, the way he had dug his hands into the sand, the way his desperate scream had faded into a choked, inhuman one. The way he’d forgotten he could not speak in that form, like it had been so long since he had bothered to try. Dan stopped thinking and stood, pulling his shirt back on and setting out into the darkened castle.  


By the time that Phil returned at the beginnings of dawn, dragging his tail up onto the sand, Dan was waiting for him with a blanket, a cup of hot chocolate, and a tray of pastries grabbed from the kitchens. Phil took the blanket with a nod, wrapping it around himself as he shivered in the freezing water. The sun rose. Where the first change of the curse was violent, cataclysmic, and shaking through him, the transformation back was quick and gentle, his body falling back into itself as the glow faded and he was almost a man once more. Dan handed him the tray wordlessly as he sat on the wet stone, fully blanketed. He downed the drink and most of the pastries way faster than expected, only stopping when there were just a couple left on the large tray.  


“Thanks,” Phil said at last, his voice weak and ragged.  


“Your mum said that it takes a lot of energy.” Dan shrugged, but he knew that Phil understood that this was a way of forgiving, too. Everything was saturated with meaning, in the quiet of the waves and the rock and the thin morning light.  


He helped Phil to his feet slowly, both of them yawning as they hobbled back upstairs in that quiet. Dan fell asleep easily as soon as he got back to his bed.  


* * *

Unfortunately, his first thought upon waking up in the middle of the afternoon was ‘shit, my parents have no idea where I am,’ followed by the extreme panic caused only by remembering that you’d forgotten something important. He threw on the same clothes from the day before haphazardly, sprinting through the very nice hallways without thinking, relieved to find the throne room occupied by only the king and queen, because the picture of him, a commoner with dark circles under his eyes barely dresses and clearly panicked, bursting into a very important court meeting was alarming. They both greeted him pleasantly, not seeming at all bothered by his franticness.  


“Do you have a stationary? My family is going to be livid,” he said as half an explanation.  


“Of course, but don’t worry, we sent them a letter saying you were here as soon as we found you. They just think we invited you over for dinner and to stay a few days and catch up, since it had been so long,” the king explained, and he let himself actually breathe.  


He thanked them a ton, and freaking out at least slightly less, headed down to the kitchens to grab an apple. He knew some of the staff from when he’d hung around the castle as a child, both to help with his mother’s work and to spend time with Phil, so he waved and exchanged greetings with the ones who recognized him before heading on his way. Well, leaving was mostly to escape questions about what had taken him so long to come back.  


From there, he wandered around the castle, marvelling at how clean and quiet it was in comparison to the bustle and clutter of the market below, though the silence had once been familiar. Finding himself back in the dusty music room wasn’t a surprise, not really. He’d been heading there from the start, though Dan only realized it now. Around the time he’d lost Phil, he’d been learning to play the piano because there was a kindly woman who sat near the market and gave lessons for little enough that they could afford it, and he’d begged and begged his parents. But after a year, the tiny room where she taught was flooded and the piano ruined, pushing her along to another town to earn a living. No piano and no teacher meant Dan’s lessons had become nothing more than a memory, just like Phil. Now, he sat down on the bench, slowly tuning it in careful motions at first, his fingers hesitating, but by the time it sounded decent, his hands had fallen back into it.  


From there he couldn’t help but play, the music coming back to fill the dusty room. It was nothing but simple songs, beginner’s work, but playing relaxed him more than anything had in a long, long time. He was so absorbed in passing through the few songs he knew a second time that he didn’t notice Phil enter the room, not until he was standing right next to him. Naturally, Dan jumped out of his skin, barely keeping from shrieking in a very undignified way. Phil laughed, and it hit him that he still did the thing where his tongue poked out of his mouth around the giggles, and it healed his wounded pride a little.  


“Sorry, sorry,” Phil said, though he didn’t sound very sorry. “I just didn’t know you played.”  


“I really don’t. That was probably bad, actually, I haven’t been able to practice in literal years.” he said, shrugging.  


“It sounded good to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve really heard any music up close, since dancing at balls wasn’t really an option…” He trailed off, and Dan moved his attention off of the piano fully.  


“The curse was made to be visible, I guess,” Phil went on. “We tried other spells to hide it or cover it up but they didn’t stick. Or they did something even weirder instead, like what you saw. There was nothing my parents could do but keep me a secret and the kingdom happy, while paying the main staff to keep it a secret. There’s a lot of gossip around here, I’m sure my parents put a lot of money into finding trustworthy servants, but we haven’t had anyone else find out until, uh, you. All I have to do is stay in the parts of the castle where I’m not too visible.” It was casual, just a part of the life he lived, but with just a touch of sadness beneath the surface.  


“You can’t leave at all?” Dan asked, incredulous even though he’d expected something similar, because hearing it out loud still sounded crazy.  


“I left a few times, at night, or when everyone was busy, or there were lots of people for cover, but there wasn’t much I could do, anyway. Just be around other people for an hour or two. Mostly, though, it wasn’t worth the risk.” He thought about what that must be like, to be thirteen and to have his world shrink down to the castle grounds and the people in it.  


“Have you tried to break it?” Phil raised his eyebrows, and he backtracked. “Okay, that was probably the first thing you did, right. Nothing worked?”  


“Everyone who was even a little magic in the courts was called in, even the ones who were just supposed to tell the future, which wasn’t very helpful at all. I had to pick so many cards and they all just told me that I was cursed, which I knew. No one could do anything to reverse it.”  


“Yeesh. Well, do you know what the curse was for? Maybe you could make amends or something.” He rolled over all the stories he’d heard of things like this, the careless boys and foolish girls who were greedy or shamed a disguised spellcaster, and the happy endings they all found.  


“Apparently the king who founded our kingdom, my great-something grandad, did not make a witch very happy. None of our records say anything about it though, not even who the witch was. I guess it’s one of the things that get covered up. We donated a lot of money to all the covens in Cygnus to see if that would do anything, just in case, but we just got a lot of thank-you notes. I don’t think there’s anything we haven’t tried, even just to get information. Really, Dan, it’s fine. I’m used to it.” That may have been true, but Dan still found himself annoyed. Just because he could live this partial life didn’t mean he _should _, but arguing it would do no good. If there was a curse there had to be a witch behind it.  
__

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“Okay, okay. But what if you tracked down the specific one that cursed you and apologized?”  


“I told you, we don’t know who did it. Well… I do know a wizard, PJ, who might be able to trace where the curse is from, and witches do live a crazy long time. It would be a start, and something we haven’t tried.” His eyes lit up, though he still seemed hesitant. “Getting to her, or asking her to come here, might be tricky even if it works, but it’s worth a shot.”  


“You could give her like, a statue or some money to make up for it, and I’m sure she’d forgive you.” Dan laughed.  


Phil ran a hand through his hair, shorter and pushed up out of his face, unlike the shaggy mess he’d had when they were kids, looking brighter than he had in all the time he’d re-known him. They talked more about his wizard friend, and what they could bribe the witch with and, seeing as she was surely hundreds of years old, Dan joked that she might ask for Phil’s hand in marriage and he pulled a face. They went through a route of side hallways for the servants that Phil was used to, that kept them away from away from the windows and the visitors, which was good because there were visitors in the throne room this time. They waited for a bit as the king and queen talked to some very boring, fancy old people until they finally left. The two of them pushed open the small door and headed for his parents, pausing to eat some small foods that a servant brought out on a silver tray. Phil still made very sure to avoid any and all cheeses, Dan noticed, and immediately made a point of eating a bunch to gross him out.  


“What’s got you two so excited?” the king asked right away, catching the change in mood.  


“Well, we were talking more about the curse,” Phil’s voice became hushed at that part, “And Dan pointed out that we’ve never really tried to find the witch who did it, right, and I thought PJ could probably track where it came from--” he broke off as his parents gave each other a supremely concerned look.  


“I suppose we could try, honey, but you know that even if we found her, it’s too risky to send any letters or royal messengers that mention the curse, in case anything goes wrong. And she certainly couldn’t come here, because she doesn’t seem very pleased with our family, and you know how the people would feel about a witch being brought into the castle.”  


“Alright, but what if I went myself? Then she could see for sure that it was passed on to me, no message needed.” The queen and king whispered back and forth to each other for longer than he would’ve liked.  


“No, Phillip. We can’t have you leaving the castle for a trip like that, there’s too much risk. It would draw too much attention for any of the staff to go with you and you certainly can’t go alone. Besides, some cattle were attacked out in the country, and everyone’s restless because of it. I’m sorry,” said the Queen, and though she really did sound it, her voice made it clear that it was the final decision. Phil flinched, eyebrows knitting together, and Dan got the distinct sort of awkwardness that came with invading someone else’s family matters.  


“Mother, Father, I am an adult.” Phil took a deep breath, keeping his voice more measured. “I know you want to protect me, but please, if there’s something we haven’t tried, I can’t keep hiding like this. I can’t keep living like this, you know that,” he pleaded, and it was his parents’ turn to look regretful. The king sighed.  


“We do know, Phil. It’s not fair, and you should be able to live your life just like everyone else, but what can we do? None of this is worth the risk of losing you, and it’s too dangerous. A solution will come along, eventually, but this is not it. We just have to keep wa--”  


“I could go with him,” Dan said, louder than he’d meant. All three of the Lesters turned to him, just as surprised as he was, but he meant it. It really wasn’t fair, for Phil to live like this any longer. “If servants draw too much attention, then I’ll be inconspicuous and I know how to talk to people. He saved my life. Please, if I can repay him at all for that, I’d like the chance to try.”  


That seemed to take everyone aback. Even the servant in the corner coughed, loud in the quiet room.  


“Well… it’s true that just the two of you wouldn’t draw much attention. Are you sure you’d want to? We don’t know how far away the witch could be by now, or if she’ll want to break the curse at all,” Mrs. Lester asked, and he was relieved find that there was less resolve in her voice than before.  


“I would, I owe him that. It really couldn’t hurt to try.” Phil was still gaping at him, but it was true. Besides, Dan’s parents were fine on their own anyway and his only plans for the future were absolutely nothing.  


“I can’t argue that you would be much better than any of our staff at disguising him. If I remember correctly, you were very good at acting in the little plays you’d put on as children.” Phil’s father said, smiling at the memory, and both of them groaned loudly. He’d forgotten about all the ridiculous costumes and stories they’d made up, and would’ve liked it to stay that way.  


“Please? I want to be able to live my life.” Phil said, open earnesty filling his voice, and Dan knew they’d won.  


“Alright, fine, you can ask PJ to find out where the witch is, and we’ll discuss this more from their.” And just like that, the light began returning to Phil.  


Dan wrote a real letter to his parents while waiting for PJ to arrive, and he filled it with lies. It wasn’t like he could possibly tell the truth, so he might as well have a convincing story. He did explain, with what little honesty he could fit into the circumstances, that over dinner with the Lesters he’d been offered the chance to visit a larger city inland on very important work for the king and queen. The important work part was at least somewhat true, just not that they knew where they were going and that it entailed scouting out how different places ground their flour. Honestly, his excuse sounded terribly boring compared to a magical quest. Both his mom and dad would be out working during the day, so he tucked the note into his pocket and headed for home. He put it on the supper table for them to find later, pet Colin for a bit since he knew he’d miss the little dog, and grabbed some clothes that were actually his for the trip.  


When he got back, there was a wizard in the castle. Dan knew this because PJ had apparently brought an entire small house with him from the countryside, packing a little room to the brim with shelves packed tightly with herbs, the tails and miscellaneous pieces of reptiles, and bottles of things that glittered and moved and made his hand buzz when he tapped one. There were a few long, spindly, strange-looking chairs scattered around on a carpet that definitely hadn’t been there before, along with a desk in the corner stacked with a whole mountain range of paper that shifted without wind and more quills than he could count. There was an actual cot in the corner, piled with blankets, and, strangely, a cube with a music note drawn on it, a crank coming out of one side and pieces of metal on the other. In another section there were dozens and dozens of miniature planets twirling and orbiting one another, each so incredibly detailed that he couldn’t even begin to process it. Not to mention the dozens of other contraptions, tonics, and beings he didn’t recognize across the suddenly large room.  


For all of this, PJ looked very different than he’d expected. This was possibly because he’d imagined a hobbled old man with a pointy hat and a large beard, but he was around his age, a handsome young man with bright green eyes, curly hair, and a plain sweater. His appearance itself gave no indication of anything special, but when they shook hands, he could tell instinctively that this man held magic. Apparently, he’d been just an apprentice when Phil was cursed and was brought along to the castle with his mentor when they were called in to help, and they’d wound up becoming friends. It showed in the way they talked, too. Phil was relaxed in a way he wasn’t with any of the staff, the marks on his face and the glow in his eyes fitting in perfectly in a room full of enchantment. He could understand how they got along, when PJ was full of light and easy to talk to, words carefully chosen but falling like feathers.  


Dan watched as he moved around the room, listening to Phil’s request and gathering things as he went. First, a clump of daffodils from a shelf that held a cloud in a jar, next a potion that danced with the colors of fire but took the form of oil, and then a dust that glittered like stars. Moving so fast that Dan could barely keep track, PJ poured some of the oil into one cupped hand, pulled exactly nine petals off the daffodils and dipped them into it, then sprinkled the dust over them so that it stuck. Then he lit them on fire. Dan wasn’t even sure where the flame had come from, since at this point it might as well have been from the potion itself, but PJ just let them burn in his hands like it was nothing before shaking the ashes off into the bottom of a chalice. Then he poured crystal-clear water over it and handed the concoction to Phil. He’d been speaking all the while and, though his voice was loud and steady, all of the sounds themselves seemed just on the edge of his hearing, the words just a hint too faint for him to understand.  


“There, drink that,” he said, turning to face Phil. “It should bond to the curse and bring all the magic to the surface, which is exactly what we need to track where it came from.” Phil gave the ash-water a long look that was definitely not of thirst but sipped it anyway. While he did, PJ brought forward an ancient looking map of the area and spread it out over a coffee table. Once Phil was done, looking more confused than disgusted, he moved as though in a trance to the map. When he brought a hand up, just to brush the edge of it, something rushed from his fingertips over the surface like wave, leaving everything a sort of shimmering silver except for a small patch of a kingdom across the sea, Sune, which glittered blue and green.  


“Well, that’s where your witch is,” PJ announced, picking up the map to look closer at it, all the color clinging on. “Seems that she’s alive and well. In fact, she’s a distant relative of their Queen, see?” He pointed to a glob that meant absolutely nothing to Dan, but he nodded along anyway.  


“Is that as specific as it can go? Just that she’s in that area?” he asked, because it was still more area to search for a witch in than he would’ve liked when there was so much on the line.  


“Pretty much all it can do. But you can ask her great-great-great granddaughter on the throne, it looks like they’re pretty close,” PJ said, reading it like a whole book in a language that only he spoke. Well, if that’s all they were going to get, then he’d take it. At least it gave them a direction to head in.  


PJ then ushered both of them out into the hallway, where there was a small cart he hadn’t noticed before. And then the room was folding in on itself and into the cart, leaving behind just an empty guest bedroom of plain grey stone and nothing very magical at all in a matter of seconds. Dan shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that anomalies like this were happening all over the world at once, even if he hadn’t seen them until now.  


“Oh, one more thing, I’ve been working on a concealing spell for this curse because it’s a tricky one, and I’ve got a temporary solution right in time. It’s made to only affect outsiders, people who don’t already know about it, and it should last at least five days--that’s enough to cross the sea-- unless you transform fully before that, in which case it’s useless,” he explained, and though five days didn’t seem very long at all to Dan, Phil looked impressed, thanking PJ as he passed him a small stone, to be spun three times and placed into his pocket when they were ready to begin the spell. Phil just held it awkwardly in his hand, since it wouldn’t do them any good if they used up the magic before they even needed to hide him.

PJ left the castle after a ton of thanks and the queen jamming quite a few sweets into his cart and promising to let him know how their journey went, pulling his entire workshop behind him out the back door. In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Lester both seemed much more confident in their plan now that their son had a better, if very temporary, way to hide in plain sight, and that they actually knew where to start. Naturally, there was concern that the Queen of Sune had ties to the witch that had cursed their family, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it, and it wasn’t really Dan’s area of concern, anyway. There were negotiations underway to sail on a small ship of pirates that weren’t particularly threatening and could easily be paid into keeping their mouths closed, since that was the last place anyone would look for official royal business. And though it wasn’t like a prince who was meant to be forgotten could exactly request a company with the Queen about business that was a secret, Mrs. Lester happily informed them that there would be a ball in the castle soon after their arrival and that it allowed masks, meaning that there was a good chance, between that and the crowds of people, they would be able to get in without drawing too much attention to themselves. Hopefully, from there, they’d figure out a way to find the witch, but it was much better than what they’d had. In fact, it was starting to feel like they actually had a plan.  


Dan had to admit that he was starting to get a little wary, not about the pirates but for Phil’s sake. The closer their departure, a week from then, came, the more real the danger of his secret being revealed became, right along with the hope of curse-breaking. Of course, if things went wrong there would be scandal for the kingdom, but more than that, there would be enough fear to put his life on the line. With so many stories, it would be hard to convince some that a monster could be harmless, even behind the walls of a castle. As soon as he thought the word, he flinched. Phil was not a monster, and this wasn’t his price to pay.  


It was time for him to be free of the curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the link to wonderful art!!! ](https://gm1.ggpht.com/fHVyr4iHB_MyG52M9Sje3LbJIuBCeFwYxayCMcT8aIHLoMK4CR6LBE4K1EQTIxi0yAia7gS3CADP9eC6mXRkp2wIjQ4rc76yt7UJml9d5Z5Kp37vmBEvImiSYT66lXo0-sTnrBAUJZt5P8XP98EYktLejR8FsGeUNueisUwJjeVRxbIQWEwdFwRg2-dd9OIfa4gLl-tGKkEDLDsG_yoO918xCTkM0a-W0Iz_LHmsOn4JBbzF6GaiJ8JUKpZONlDbu6fTJqTK7lBSvH0edEUA3NX4rS3KYSEKvb_4fL9FkZhvVv0ph7rqMrR9UYcnnmx7rvniMCeW3mWWB3Unpu-bm7b36ogxGm-EbOBqjlvW3mkji4xuIBaQdMXA3INJUlER0LU09K5AnKVSY7BOubzpJaB5Fi55vNXiMYxS5DFnBOzUvMn4vmztHlCS1z_4Y30KbHUM3V51w1QKcMPNcSKLzN4bzj3D8xKS4ytn-l4mqRfkTf04krzBnZhL9ue0-vs4rI_2L57zlfenzZH5eqo-mAm_H-DYdhj_HBq8YOhAZ-4qBkRYuJ4OqBWxoTSMY7LQGCh9OoSzF1BM7_YW_GoRp8VuSwH7vA3ttbcjttri9nUOhMn0LyRaPPEt16gyZb5YN2oX4IgGhX6TERPUxMNz-MMN2Z4szbzSFmi9ZwXRNpDcoFmGIja2b3GRecri2Ng4iANxNJg5WcKhLjc=s0-l75-ft-l75-ft)Phil has the lines of magic on him in this form, too.  
> You can probably guess that I love PJ, but just to make sure: I love PJ!


	3. Rising Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for nightmares and more themes of drowning.

Within a day, the castle filled with life as clothes, money, and supplies were packed to prepare for the trip, even if only some of the staff knew what it entailed. Dan wandered around the halls, taking in all the movement, energy, and chaos, but there was something tugging at the back of his mind that he couldn’t seem to shake: he’d kissed Phil at age twelve, and never talked about it because he was gone. Hell, they still hadn’t talked about it, a realization that had struck him halfway through dinner with the Lester family, making him sort of choke on his fancy lemon water. Now, it had settled as an irrational worry underneath his skin. Phil must’ve remembered, but clearly he didn’t want to bring it up. And that wasn’t even the worst part.  


No, that was the tangle of feelings he’d had, young and full to the brim with a blindingly bright fever-love, like spring just as the last snow melts. Dan knew every detail of how he’d felt that night; the problem was that he didn’t know how he felt now. He wasn’t… he wasn’t in love with Phil, couldn’t have been after ten years and when he hardly knew this version of him. He had been just on the edge of it then, but that future was gone, and neither of them could have done anything to change that. Now, Phil was something more than a stranger but not quite a friend. He was still himself, oh so familiar, and Dan knew he could be close with him easily, if he could just get past whatever wall was between them now. But even without all that lost time, he would still have helped him. And the certainty of that thought, ironically, made him unsure. After all, everything was still so new, and now they were about to go on a quest alone. Naturally, it was in this spiral of thought that he bumped into Phil, who was apparently also wandering the castle aimlessly.  


“Sorry I kissed you before you got cursed to have a tail,” he blurted out.  


Phil blinked. Dan died inside a bit.  


“It’s okay?” Phil replied, definitely as more of a question, and he felt maybe three seconds from sprinting in the opposite direction just to get out of there.  


“It felt weird not to talk about it, sorry,” he forced himself to say, pretending to be casual about anything that was happening. He nodded along, as though Dan was making any sense.  


“I just thought you forgot, somehow,” Phil admitted, looking rather like he hadn’t expected to say anything at all. “Even though I guess that’s the last time you saw me before everything, I--” He paused, took a breath, looking a little red, though it was hard to tell through the curse’s magic and the evening light. “I’m sorry that I had to leave.” The apology hung heavy in the air for a long moment.  


“Phil, Phil, Phil, you don’t have to feel bad about that, it wasn’t your choice!” Dan said, a little too aggressively for something that was meant to be kind, but it seemed to get some of the tension to leave his shoulders. “Really, I would have been hurt if you had just never spoken to me again for no reason, but seeing as you’re very cursed I think I can let it slide,” he teased, relieved when he smiled in response.  


“Thanks. Oh, we might want to go into the garden, some of the servants have been listening in.” Dan jerked around in time to see a bit of fabric disappear around the corner. “You wouldn’t believe how fast rumors move here. Actually, one time some people were saying that I was totally sneaking out to uhmmm, canoodle in a nunnery, which I did not do.”  


Dan burst out laughing, letting him lead the way out into the garden, draped in early darkness as the birds sang the last song of the day. It was all so ridiculous, especially the word “canoodle”, but he didn’t doubt it for a second. There were plenty of rumors in the tavern and the town alone, and he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be in a castle where the lives of the royal family were the main source of entertainment.  


“Thanks for the clarification, I definitely would’ve thought you were seducing nuns otherwise.” He rolled his eyes, still smiling.  


“Hey, you never know. There was also the story that I was being enchanted away by some sort of dashing sorcerer…”  


They went on like that, joking and laughing and strolling through the courtyard in the dark. For now, the garden was still sleeping comfortably as winter drew to an end, the air cool but not cold, and he knew it would not be more than a day or two before the first sprouts appeared from the earth. Still, the garden was hushed and beautiful even with no growth, and they wound up sitting on the edge of a dormant fountain. Dan couldn’t be sure just how long they talked, or even what their conversation was about, just that there suddenly seemed to be so much to say. Each word made it easier to talk to Phil, transforming him from the ghost of a memory to a living, breathing man, one he could know again. They stayed like that, comfortable to be wrapped up in each other’s presence and the night until a distant bell tolled.  


It was like coming out a daze, almost, to realize how late it was, sending them back into the castle and out of the dark. It was impossible to miss the odd concentration of servants doing unnecessary jobs in their area, including a young girl dusting the… wall? He gave Phil a pointed look, pleased when it got him to laugh, tongue poking out through his teeth. 

* * *

Three days passed quicker than he could have imagined, simply spending time in the castle and, more importantly, with Phil. Though it got easier to exist in tandem with him, Dan found that his feelings wouldn’t stop being complicated quite as soon as he would’ve liked, though he was getting there. But they were sort of, maybe, almost friends, and it was more than he ever could’ve asked. And just like that, it was time to leave. Carefully, Phil placed PJ’s enchantment in his pocket, and though he looked just the same to Dan, those servants not in on the secret were ecstatic to see their prince return, and said nothing about any evidence of magic on his skin. His parents insisted on hugging them both goodbye, once more reminding them that they couldn’t let anyone know about the curse. And then, to avoid any attention, they left through the servant’s gate and out the back of the castle, heading towards the docks. The air was warm with sunshine and promise, and he found himself buzzing with excitement. He’d never had the money, time, or need to travel farther than the outskirts of their seaside town, and now he was going all the way to Sune. Sure, it might have been for the very serious mission of breaking a curse and keeping a secret, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.  


As they walked through the busy city streets, filled with the yells of children, glittering trinkets from overseas, and the smell of baking bread, Dan was surprised to see how Phil changed. At first, he seemed wary, keeping his head down and barely looking around. But with PJ’s spell taking effect, no one seemed to cast him more than a glance or a friendly smile, and he began to move easier, taking in the world around him. Dan even had to pull him along from the shops so they wouldn’t be late, though he couldn’t blame him, to want a piece of this life after so long away from it. Hopefully, he would be able to spend as much time getting scammed for useless trinkets as he wanted, soon.  


The docks were just as busy, but he managed to lead them between the sailors yelling orders and loading their ships, to find their ride. Though the ship was named "The Morning’s Glory", he didn’t think it looked exactly glorious, just a small merchant’s ship without all the flair and insignias, and a flag with a sunrise and an arching purple flower in the center. From what he’d heard, its crew weren’t the most pirate-y of pirates, picking off the scraps of more successful thieves rather than looting villages or boarding kingdom vessels, which probably made the King and Queen more comfortable trusting them with their son and their money. Still, they _were _pirates, and he stood straighter as they approached the ship, trying to look like he knew what he was doing at all.  
__

____

“Do we have a story? Did they give us a story?” he whispered to Phil, the sudden and terrible realization that they needed a reason for being smuggled across the ocean, when only the Captain had been trusted with the truth, hit him like a few bricks.  


“Oh no,” was all Phil had time to say, looking stricken, before they were greeted by a short, serious looking woman, her shiny black hair cropped around her chin.  


“I assume you’re our cargo?” she asked, not looking particularly impressed with either of them.  


“Uh, yes Ma'am. Really, thank you so much for--” Dan started, suddenly desperate to be on this lady’s good side, because he didn’t want to find out what the other options were .  


“I am Captain Shih, and I’m simply doing my job, so don’t thank me. Now, as long as you are on my ship, you will follow any orders I give and stay out of the way. Come along, we don’t have all day.” And she was turning, leaving them to share a look and hurry after. There were a few crewmates cleaning or stocking the deck of the ship, disappearing and reappearing from down below. Captain Shih pointed out her cabin specifically so they knew to avoid it, then showed them to below the deck, where there were stores of food and water, various crates that he assumed held some illegal items to trade, and an area crossed with hammocks for the crew to sleep in. Fortunately, he and Phil were given at least semi-private rooms, hammocks made up for them in the parts of the lower deck that were slightly walled off. Even so, it was pretty crowded.  


Back on the deck, the captain called everyone away from their duties preparing to set sail so they could be introduced. The pirates looked them over critically, and he couldn’t help but notice the way Phil shifted uncomfortably at the attention, even dressed in plain clothes instead of the usual noble finery. Dan turned back and held their gazes evenly.  


“Crew, this is our cargo for the trip. As you know, the pay for their delivery is substantial, so it is of utmost importance that they are unharmed.” As soon as she spoke her cew straightened, listening carefully to her every word, and he was more intimidated than ever. Clearly, she demanded respect, even over pirates.  


“Cargo, this is my crew. Joel, the quartermaster,” she pointed to a tall man with dark skin and a friendly smile, “Sam, our gunner,” an older woman with several scars and only one hand, “Madge, our sailing master,” she was no more than a teenager, with bronze skin, a tattered yellow bandana hanging lopsided off of her head, and eyes that glittered with mischief, “and Louis, our boatswain.” She gestured to a blonde man who gave a little wave, looking far too scrawny and clean for the ship. After that there were the names of the other crew members without official ranks, a collection of scraggly looking individuals with the occasional missing limb or eye and quite a few scars between them, though they all seemed friendly enough. He was surprised, but then again, there was quite a lot of money going towards their safety.  


Once they were introduced, it didn’t take long for the crew to get moving, the sails unfurling against the clear sky to catch and keep the wind, pulling them out into the sea. It took Dan a few tries to steady himself once they started really moving, trying really hard not fall flat on his face in front of a bunch intimidating pirates he’d just met. Even when he’d managed to keep himself supported on the rail longer than five seconds, finally getting his bearings, Dan had a feeling that it would be a while before he truly got the hang of it. Phil was having at least a slightly easier time, but he’d actually been sailing before. Besides getting his sea legs, though, he found himself mostly without anything to occupy his time.  


He watched as the distant line of the shore slowly disappeared, listened to the call of the seabirds, and studied the map that PJ had left them, the location of the witch gleaming blue and green. Finally, dinner was called. As it turned out, everyone but the crew members needed to keep the ship on course and Captain Shih, who ate in her own quarters, packed into one small, noisy room to eat. He squeezed himself between Phil and Sam, who passed him a plate with her good hand, ignoring the loud yelling all around. The food was far from the best he’d eaten, consisting of salted meat and the most flavorless, brick-like biscuits he’d ever experienced, plus he was grumbled at for requesting water instead of rum, but food was food. Phil didn’t seem quite as okay with their options, hitting the biscuit against the table dejectedly, just to see it dent the wood.  


“What, does this not meet your standards, Your Majesty?” Dan teased, knowing the title could be passed off easily, but the formality still annoyed Phil. Sure enough, he got a half-hearted scowl, but before he could defend himself, they were interrupted.  


“Hey, you two! Cargo!” someone shouted, loud enough to be heard over all the other yelling and general chaos. Dan turned to see Joel waving at them. “What’re ya names?” he spoke with more of the accent he’d expected from Shih, but it wasn’t overwhelming. He answered easily, and though Phil only nervously gave his first name, seeing as introducing himself with the surname of the prince wouldn’t have been exactly subtle, no one pried further.  


“Nice to meet ya, then. Now, what brings ya onto our ship? Captain’s not letting on, see.” Apparently, this was interesting enough for the rest of the crew to quiet down, only muttering slightly as they waited.  


And there it was, the story they were supposed to have but very much didn’t.  


“Oh, uh, we were just, uhm, I,” Phil said, looking like a bird with its neck in a fox’s mouth and wow, this was not going well so far. The muttering increased, and he could see the crew eyeing them, trying to figure them out as he stuttered--  


“We’re engaged!” Dan cut in, louder than he needed to be. For good measure, he wrapped one arm around Phil’s waist, shooting him a quick look of apology. But he had something to start with and he wasn’t letting it go now.  


“My parents wanted me to marry into someone of my own… status, you see.” He tried to make his voice airy, like he had the money to prove it even when he really, really didn’t. “But I wanted to marry for love--” a wave of his hand to sell it “--so we eloped. I took my family’s money to pay for this voyage so they couldn’t find us out, and we’re going to get married in Sune.”  


He could tell that the pirates were eating it up and tried to push down his panic. Okay, that was one problem solved.  


“Well, it’s a good thing yur on opposite sides of the cabin then, eh? Not before the wedding,” Joel laughed, elbowing Phil in the side hard enough for him to choke on his water, or that might have been his comment, and Dan gaped. On second thought, he might have just created an entirely new issue.  


Still, Dan found most of the pirates much more agreeable than he’d expected for, well, pirates. Apparently, the Morning’s Glory crew cared more for surviving and having freedom than pillaging or hurting people, though he had no doubt that they’d seen plenty of fights from the number of scars alone. He wasn’t surprised that it took Phil a little longer to warm up to them, being so used to the society of nobles, but by end of the night he was laughing along to one of Madge’s many, many jokes.  


Sleeping, however, was more difficult. Not only was he not used to swinging around with the movement of the ship (though it was probably better than sliding right off like he would on a mattress), but it became clear right away that the ship still had to be managed into the night, and that meant crewmembers stumbling down the steps at all hours to wake someone to take their shift before passing out. After he got used to routine thumps, whispers, and snoring, he finally drifted off.  


It wasn’t until the next afternoon, when small bits of food were passed out to them for a makeshift lunch, when he managed to talk to Phil alone, all of the crew finally awake and above deck.  


“Sorry I said we were engaged, but you are the worst liar I’ve ever seen,” he said, putting one hand on the wall to keep from toppling over.  


“That’s the worst apology ever, Dan. And I can lie, I just wasn’t ready!”  


“Riiight. At least now we have an excuse, and something tells me they don’t need anymore convincing to believe us.” The pirates were more than happy to make jabs at their ‘relationship’, but it was better than being doubted.  


“If they do, it’s your fault.” Phil sighed and shook his head, and Dan was just at the base of the ladder when the hatch above it was lifted, shining light down onto the two of them. Louis was peering down into the cabin, eyebrows raised, and oh no.  


“Sorry to interrupt, fellas. Just trying to get my bag.”  


“Oh, we were just talking--” Dan said as he reached down and snagged it, Phil mumbling something completely incomprehensible at the same time, but they weren’t being listened to.  


“Hey, s’none of my business what you call talking.” And then he was gone.  


“This is completely your fault, just by the way,” Phil pointed out, climbing up to the deck, and Dan couldn’t argue with that.  


It became clear that “unharmed” did not extend to jokes at their expense. He was asked about the wedding, how they’d met, and how many kids they were planning to pick up off the streets, for some reason, and he was sure that Phil was getting the same treatment. In what little time they could get without listening ears, they made sure that their answers matched up, but sneaking off just attracted more laughs. Still, the pirates certainly knew what how to run a ship, and it was easy to just brush off the comments or joke back. He settled into the routine of things easily, and Dan let himself think that maybe this whole curse-breaking thing would be easier than he thought. At least, up until he fell asleep on the third night of their journey, the moment things began falling apart. 

* * *

_It shouldn’t have been this peaceful. Dan felt the water around him, rising above him, swallowing him beneath the waves. For a moment, he let himself fall, down and down and down and down and down and down and down, the water slowly eclipsing the sun somewhere far above him. Then came the panic. He could feel his heart begin to hammer against his chest, so hard it might break him open, and ice cold fear, colder than the water, colder than anything he could ever know, coursed through to his fingertips in an instant. Dan felt his lungs start ache within his chest. All at once, his arms began to reach out towards nothing as his legs kicked, instinct grabbing him. Still the waves rose. His limbs were stone and roots and earth, immovable. They refused to drag him upwards, no matter how much fear rushed through him, pushing itself against his ribs along with his heart.  
_

_Dan realized, as though from a distance, that he would never breathe again.  
_

____

_But his body continued to thrash, survival keeping its iron hold on him far too late. There was no sound in the water. He reeled through nothing, limbs clumsy, even as what energy he had left continued to pour out of him. He could almost see it, seeping out from his clawing hands and kicking feet, curling like blood into the water. Then, before Dan could stop it, before he could even think, salt water filled his mouth, his throat, his lungs. It burned its way, sharper and sicklier than fire, through his insides, tearing him open from the inside out. But even as his vision blurred and his surroundings became nothing but blue-dark, his mind stayed awake, his heart filled with fear. This was dying: feeling his own body fade, give out beneath him, all while his mind continued on, trapped in this darkness forever and forever and forever and forever and forever and forever and forever and _\--  
__

____

Dan gasped, shooting upright. For a moment, the world around him was still made of waves and water and emptiness, until his mind cleared. He was in the spare hammock the crew had offered him, in a room full of snoring, living people, on his way to break the curse. He told himself that he was safe. Though his heart rate started to slow from its fevered pace, the rocking of the ship beneath him made it hard to believe himself.  


After some time, he couldn’t tell how much, of almost falling back asleep, eyes drifting shut, only to see water seeping in through the door, pouring through the cabin walls and filling the room and waking up all over again, he gave up on rest. Dan tugged the mass of worn blankets from his legs, setting his feet down onto the floor as quietly as possible to keep anyone else from waking. Other conscious people meant questions, and there was no putting his fears into words tonight. He crept past Madge, snoring loudly in her hammock, and found himself just a little comforted. At least he wasn’t the only one left in the world.  


The feeling faded as he left the cabin and climbed the stairs, emerging to meet the dark and the sound of waves. The stars stretched endlessly above him in a sky like a second ocean, as though they were just tiny pinpoints of silver dropped into the black waves. He found himself, without thinking, at the edge of the deck, hands on the railing and staring out at the sea without being sure what had brought him there at all.  


The water wasn’t the murky, tinged green of his dream, instead just the deep, familiar blue of the waves that crashed on the shore of the kingdom he’d grown up in. They didn’t crest and fall out here, simply remaining shifting flows that rocked the ship. Even with so much familiarity and peace, something about the waves still made his fingers twitch against the smooth wood beneath them, and he breathed the sea air in deep. Dan knew, now, how far the ocean stretched, reaching its hands out towards the horizon with open palms, and just how deep it sank, down and down and down. Of course he did; he’d nearly been lost to it. By the time he heard the already familiar footsteps on the hollow wood behind him, he couldn’t count how long he’d been staring into the waves, just that the darkness was a tiny bit thinner.  


“I guess I’m not the only one who couldn't sleep,” Phil said, voice quietly sympathetic as he leaned against the railing of the ship, his gaze trained on the waves. It was still dark enough that the world had faded to shapes and edges, but the lines of magic across Phil’s skin carried their own rules and their own soft light. The hint of a glow stood out sharply against the over-paleness of his skin, but it was no longer strange to Dan, just another part of Phil. It was comforting, even.  


“Apparently. I just…” There didn’t really seem to be any words for what he was feeling, just a visceral fear left in the place of his dream. “I almost died, huh.” It seemed much realer now, than when he first woke up, even though his mouth no longer burned with salt and his body no longer ached with the cold.  


Phil sighed, pausing for a long moment. There wasn’t much to say to that kind of truth.  


“I’m really, really glad you didn’t. I think, even if I knew exactly where this curse came from, it would be a lot harder to do this on my own,” Phil breathed, and it took a moment for the words to process. When they did, it was his turn to not know what to say.  


“Oh.”  


“Yeah.”  


They faded into silence there, uncomfortable until he could force himself to accept it, but the nightmare had begun slipping to the edges of his mind already. It was just the two of them sharing space and silence, not needing words. It was enough, like this. Dan remembered, suddenly, the summers where everything burned, not bright and searing but slow and heavy; the summers where they only had enough energy to find a patch of shade to lie in, panting in the grass for hours with only the buzz of cicadas because talking was too warm. It had been enough then, too.  


It was in this silence that they saw the storm moving in to cover their ship. Captain Shih, taking the night shift of steering the Morning’s Star, saw it too. The dark, rolling clouds formed smudge against an already dark sky, until there was nothing but waiting grey. That day, there would be no sunrise. The sky was swallowed up by the storm eagerly, but the crew was quick, yelling through the boat as they shot into action to keep steady against the waves. From what he could hear, there was no way around the storm now that it was on them like this. And then he and Phil were being shoved into the cabin by Joel, his face serious for the first time as he ordered them to remain there unless told otherwise.  


Even if it was safer, waiting out the storm from below was a nightmare by itself, listening to the rain that beat against the wood above them as though trying to break through. There was a strange horror in having nothing to do but huddle against the floorboards and feel the boat lurch and rock violently, to listen to the yells and thunder from above. Dan gritted his teeth, trying to push back the anxiety winding through him. They would be fine. They would be fine. They would be fine. For hours and hours they waited, every sense in his body tuned into the storm despite how much he wished to block it out. Sometimes, they would be thrown out of the corner in which they huddled, and it was all he could do to hold tight to the wall.  


Finally, after and eternity of nothing, the storm seemed to begin letting them go. The pushes became smaller and smaller, though the ocean was far from calm. Dan didn’t wait to be given the okay, shoving his way out of the hatch and onto the deck, simply because he knew that any longer waiting for that cramped space to flood would break him. It was still pouring, the rain falling in thick sheets from the unnaturally dark sky, and the crew looked exhausted, but the boat was steady. Most of them were gathered near the edge, Shih talking to some of the crew, and he headed toward them immediately with Phil close behind. Joel gave them each a dirty look for disobeying an order, but the rest of the crew seemed too relieved to pay them any mind. He let himself exhale.  


Then, in one final surge of rage, the ocean tossed itself against them with finality, knocking them around once more as Dan clutched at the railing. He watched in a slow moment of understanding as Louis was thrown into the air with the force of it, head cracking against the railing before he disappeared over the edge of the ship and into the water below. Time took a moment to catch up as the rest of the crew picked themselves up, seeming just as frozen as he was in the danger. But Joel shot like lightning to the edge of the deck, breaking the shock over them as people began yelling, and Dan followed him. The waves surged back and forth as he searched them with quick eyes, no sign of anything beneath them.  


Then Shih was grabbing Joel by the back of his coat from where he’d been moving to climb the railing with a sort of manic certainty. Her face looked hollow, desperate, but she shook her head.  


“You won’t make it in that water Joel, I’m sorry. My crew can’t lose you,” she whispered, voice gentle for the first time, and there was no denying that she was right. Joel struggled weakly against her grip for a moment before falling limp, crumpling against the deck with his face in his hands as they watched with the silence of a funeral. So much was lost in just a few seconds, Dan thought, and then Phil was pushing past him, headed towards the rail, and all he thought was oh shit. Because he was moving fast, too fast to stop even if he wanted to, though Dan had already accepted what he needed to do. And then Phil was jumping into the sea after Louis.  


All Dan could do was sigh as the crew turned to him, gaping and shaking, trying to understand why he’d just let his “fiance” dive into incredibly dangerous waters. Of course both he and Louis would be fine now, and he was glad for it, but man, Dan was going to be in so much trouble. He ignored the crew’s panic, moving to lean over the railing so that when Phil pushed his way up out of the water, holding a gasping and wild-eyed Louis against him, Dan could grab onto the human’s hand and pull him up to safety. He silently offered a rope to get Phil up, with the tail and all. Of course he would be able to move in these waters just fine, and the gills couldn’t hurt.  


Once over the railing, he collapsed, gasping weakly for a long moment. His tail slowly shifted back, legs and lungs claiming scales and gills. The crew was stunned into silence from his change, but Dan just rolled his eyes.  


“Thanks for just making me fail at my only job, Phil,” he scoffed, glaring halfheartedly as he tossed him his jacket, though thankfully there was enough left of his pants to keep him decent, because that would have made things even more awkward.  


“I’ll make sure my parents know it was my fault, stop worrying,” Phil gasped, looking tired but smug about his rescue, and maybe everything really would be fine.  


“What in the hell is going on?” asked Sam, loudly, and right. The pirates. They were really staring now, and even if PJ’s spell hadn’t been broken, he doubted that it could have hidden the transformation well. So much for a week of going unnoticed. At least the rain was letting up, he reminded himself, because he was going to take whatever he could get at this point.  


“We’re on our way to break a curse,” Dan offered, shrugging.  


“You’re engaged _and _cursed?” asked one of the crew, looking impressed.  
__

____

“What? No! We’re not engaged and it’s his curse, I’m just helping.” He pointed to Phil, who had managed to sit up off of the very soggy floor.  


“It’s awful nice to help yer fiance break a curse. Does that count ‘s a dowry?” Joel teased. Dan sputtered, both him and Phil trying to defend themselves at once, but pirates are a stubborn type of people. Still, they did their best, everyone chattering with a tired sort of relief, but even though everyone was safe and the clouds were rolling away, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong.  


Louis, who’d been asked time and time again if he was alright and fussed over by most of the crew, even after he’d coughed up any water in him and been checked over by the ship’s stand-in medic, stayed quiet. Sure, it might’ve been the near-death experience, but then there was the staring. Every time Dan glanced at him, his eyes were trained on Phil, holding something he couldn’t place. Hell, it was perfectly normal to be surprised or amazed at such a powerful enchantment up close; if anything, he should’ve known exactly how Louis felt just then. Still, something shifted in his stomach at his silence and careful, watching eyes, though he tried to ignore it.  


“No need to fret, Louis has no intentions of stealing your beloved,” Sam cackled, jabbing him in the side with her elbow and effectively dragging him out of his thoughts.  


“Oh, no no no, I’m not- he’s not-” Dan tried, not sure if he was more surprised that she thought he was jealous, or that a battle-hardened thief had really and truly just called Phil his “beloved”.  


“Shh, don’t worry. He’s strictly interested interested in ladies, anyway.” She gave him a pat on the back that was probably meant to be reassuring and headed off, leaving him so incredibly indignant that he forgot all about Louis and his silence. 

By the next day, the sky had cleared and the sun beat down with renewed warmth as Dan laid across the deck, the tiredness from yesterday’s chaos finally reaching him. But he was warm, and comfortable, and they’d be at Sune’s shore in another day, so resting was clearly his best option. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his nightclothes, trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt, but at least they were dry now.  


He turned to see Phil looking at him where he was leaning against a stack of crates, but he turned away too quickly for Dan to be sure of the glance. Huh. It was nice to have the pirates see him for what he really was, at least, because they didn’t have to have every curse-related conversation in some cramped corner, and he was sure it was easier for Phil, too, not to have to hide. If they were successful, he’d never have to do it again.  


“Hey,” Phil said, dragging him back to the real world. “Do you want to swim with me?”  


And then he was standing, smiling brightly enough to challenge the stars and offering a hand up that Dan just couldn’t refuse.  


“Uh, you know I almost drowned less than a week ago and that the ship could’ve sunk last night, right?” he tried, staring at the water with an appropriate amount of distrust. It seemed too soon to handle quite yet, even if he didn’t know when he would be ready.  


“That’s true, but what if just taking a little a dip in the water puts all that behind you?”  


“I-I don’t want to take ‘a little dip’, Phil.” Dan rolled his eyes, sitting back down and watching as Phil pulled his shirt off. “I don’t have gills.” The words were light, but with comfort behind them and Dan knew it to be true, though he would’ve liked to have been stubborn for a bit longer. Phil had saved him before, hadn’t he? And he felt, tucked away somewhere in his ribcage, that even without this curse on him, he would still be there beside him in all things. He wouldn’t be hurt. It was a strange sort of certainty, under all that sunlight and fresh air and Phil’s glowing excitement, but it was enough to move him back to his feet. He’d never had a chance of resisting, anyway. In a flash Phil was over the edge, and by the time that Dan had shrugged off his shirt and trousers, he’d transformed again. He took just a moment to look down into that deep, deep water, glittering and shifting with so much familiarity. One, two, three deep breaths, and he jumped in.  


It was warm enough now that the water was more refreshing than soul-crushingly cold, and he took a moment to hang, suspended, beneath the waves. Of course, he really didn’t have gills, so he pushed himself to the surface, hair dripping into his face as he took a deep breath, taking a careful inventory of what he felt. His limbs moved easily, not halted by a sudden cold and the ocean was gently rocking him, not pulling him down, and Phil was at his side. This wasn’t so bad.  


He ducked back beneath the waves, swimming down a ways to watch as Phil swam away from him, lightning fast and easy, fins and gills flaring as he looped. Dan rolled his eyes, but even he knew he looked impressed.  


“Way to show off,” he said, at the surface once more, mostly as an excuse to splash water into Phil’s face. He squawked, rearing back, and there was already a miniature wave headed towards him by the time Dan realized the mistake of starting a water fight when his opponent had fins. Still, he tried his absolute hardest, and a lot of flailing, splashing, and one poorly-done headlock later and all he could do was laugh and keep himself afloat as Phil swam circles around him, literally and figuratively. His chest felt sort of bubbly and light, and everything seemed golden in a way he couldn’t describe. It had been so long not just since he’d had the time to just mess around and not have to worry, but since he’d been able to do it with Phil, and suddenly no curse was worth concern, at least for that moment.  


“Okay, fine, you can show off as much as you like,” he gave in, mostly to avoid another miniature tsunami, the words falling between the last of his laughter.  


Phil nodded eagerly, rolling so he was floating on his back, looking up at the sky. For a moment, they just floated, enjoying the cold of the ocean against the heat of the sun, the chatter from the ship above them fading into the background. Then, all at once, he was in front of Dan again, waving his hands excitedly. Once he had his attention, he pointed downwards with both hands, towards the water. Dan stared at him as blankly as he was capable of. He sighed, then pointed to Dan, then to himself, then to his eyes, and then back down to the water again.  


“You want me to… look? Look at something?” He tried, just hoping for the best, and Phil nodded again, giving a webbed thumbs up. “You want me to look at something, with you, in the water.” Another nod as Phil waited for the answer to his sort-of question. Once again, he found himself handing his trust over easily, no matter how dark and endless the water seemed. Nodding, Dan closed his eyes when he motioned for him to. After a moment, he felt another hand around his own, took a deep breath, and he let himself be pulled beneath the waves. The water was a rush all around him, Phil’s hand the only thing focused in the blur, and he held on tighter. And then they stopped, suspended in the water, and he opened his eyes.  


They were on a small ledge, with the ocean reaching down into pits on either side, with sand drifting beneath his feet. If he wasn’t holding his breath, it would have been taken from him. At the immense stretch of the water all around them, the way the sunshine was pulled and shifted apart as it filtered down through the waves, how light he felt. But more than that, it was the quiet. The silence here stretched, so very different from the world above with its clutter, though it wasn’t constricting. And Phil was with him. His tail was curved out long behind him, fins stretched out, and he was smiling. Dan understood why he’d wanted to show him this, this pocket of a world, now. It was perfect, separate from everything else, and it was theirs, now. He remembered the clearing he hadn’t seen in so long, the one that had been a secret between just the two of them, the one where he’d waited for a prince who he hadn’t known was gone. He hadn’t been there in so long that he’d nearly forgotten about it, but now, he felt just the same as he had back then. Dan let himself hang there, suspended, for a few more seconds that felt like both years and too short, looking at Phil with all the wonder he felt. Eventually, he squeezed where their hands were still connected, the pressure in his lungs building, but even as they broke the surface again, Dan could feel that world of the ocean coming up with him.

They pulled into the docks in late afternoon the next day, and Dan forgot everything else, because wow. He hadn’t known what to expect from Sune, or really anywhere other than Cygnus, but he couldn’t have anticipated the sheer fanciness of everything. The other ships in the harbor dwarfed the Morning’s Star, elegant designs and images painted or engraved on their sides and gilded flags hanging from their masts. From what he could make out, the people in the streets were all well-dressed and would have looked out of place in the streets of the city he knew. This was a city of merchants, traders, and nobles, all displaying their status for everyone to see, like the allure of a peacock’s feathers.  


That, at least, would make hiding Phil a little easier, with so much else to look at. There was no putting PJ’s spell back, so they borrowed a scarf to wrap over Phil’s neck, shoulders, and mouth, a wide brimmed hat, and waited for the cover that darkness would provide. He didn’t say it, but they were so, so screwed. Even if they managed to find a place to stay without getting noticed, Phil wouldn’t be able to be in the city during the day. The sooner they met the Queen, learned where the witch was, and got as far away from people as possible, the better. Finally, darkness fell, and they both thanked Captain Shih and her crew a fourth time, shaking hands and getting clapped on the back, along with plenty of congratulations on their “wedding”.  


As they wandered through the city, looking for an inconspicuous place to spend the night that wouldn’t use up every last coin in their bags, Dan wished that he’d taken up the Lester’s offer for some nicer clothes instead of packing only his own. The further they went, the nicer things became, and it wasn’t long before he felt himself stand out. He was wearing his best clothes, but with all the wear and patches they weren’t exactly cutting it. Even the streets here were of smoothly cut stones, not a bump in sight, and they were lined with hanging lanterns and two-story shops that all sat politely together. It was strange, to him, that everything was so perfectly placed, but Dan couldn’t deny that he was impressed. Of course, that just made it much harder to find somewhere affordable and inconspicuous, and it was fully night by the time they stumbled upon a slightly ramshackle inn on the edge of the city.  


The inside of The Herald was, to put it nicely, a little different from the class of the city they’d seen so far. It was dark, crowded, and somehow smelled worse than the actual inside of a pirate ship. The walls looked tacked together haphazardly, there were stains most places, and everything was sort of slanted. The tiny wooden tables were packed with people, all of whom glared at Dan like he had personally kicked their first born child in the shins, even the man hunched over the front desk. Welcoming, he thought.  


“Hi, we’d like to book two rooms for the night--” he started, trying his best to remain polite as Phil shrunk out of the candlelight.  


“Nope, can’t do that. Only one room left,” he interrupted, shuffling a set of cards across the tiny desk in front of him, the eyes of each of the figures on them scratched out.  


“Well, alright, one room with two beds still works fine.”  


“We don’t have two beds. Just the one.”  


Dan sighed, glancing at Phil, who shrugged, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else, and there was nothing to do but agree.“Well, I’ll just sleep on the floor, then,” he said, paying the man.  


“You can try,” he cackled, and at that point he couldn’t have cared less what that meant, so long as he got away from this crowded room and the lady in the corner who was very clearly pretending to squish them between two pinched fingers, for some reason. He forced himself to thank the man, hitched his small trunk up, and hurried up the stairs. Finding the room was a bit of trouble by itself, seeing as whoever built the inn had been bitter enough to make a staircase that wound around the entire building, branched off, and sometimes ended with a dead end for no apparent reason. And when they did eventually find it, Dan sort of wished they’d just stayed in the hallway-purgatory.  


To start, it was tiny; not in a cozy, cute way, just the plain old claustrophobic kind. There was one small bed shoved into the corner which took up the vast majority of the room, a nightstand against it, and then a tiny sliver of space between that and the door to the bathroom. A small child would have maybe, _maybe _been able to curl up and sleep on the floor, but not anyone more than ten and certainly not someone of Dan’s height. He looked at Phil, both of them clearly having the same realization.  
__

____

“It looks like we’ll have to share.” He pointed out the obvious, just to have something to say.  


____

“Yep,” answered Phil, the scarf muffling his voice until he pulled it off in the safety a closed door provided. Right. Well, there was nothing weird about that, not at all. Sharing was a necessity if both of them were going to sleep that night, so why would it be weird? At least, that’s what Dan told himself as he got them dinner, trying to find the least repulsive items on the menu. By the time he’d gotten something semi-edible, he’d managed to put his mind at ease. Well, he firmly shoved his worries into a mental box and locked it tight instead of dealing with them, but it was just as good. Probably. Besides, it let him be excited about the next day.  


____

“Tomorrow’s the ball,” he stated, trying not to seem too enthusiastic as he tried, again, to distract from the night ahead. Phil nodded, lighting up.  


____

“If we get to talk to Queen, and I’m sure we’ll figure it out, by the day after tomorrow we could actually know exactly where the witch is!” Hearing it out loud made it concrete, another reminder of just how close they were to solving everything, and Phil seemed equally pleased, a certain dancing energy in the room at the idea. Then, a very angry someone knocked on the wall next to them so hard he thought it would break, yelling at them to shut up, and all there was left to do before the excitement of tomorrow was sleep. Naturally, that was the one thing that Dan could not do.  


____

The bed was just barely big enough for both of them, and that was with him nearly falling off the edge of it, not the most comfortable he’d ever been. Even then, he could still feel the rise and fall of Phil’s back against his own as he breathed evenly, seeing as he’d fallen asleep almost as soon as the lamp went out. He stared into the dark room. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he couldn’t go to sleep, though the terror of moving didn’t help, not that he couldn’t even really understand that bit of it. His stillness might have just been to avoid waking Phil up, or… or he wasn’t sure what else there could be, his thoughts hitting a wall he didn’t feel like breaking. Somehow, he’d made this whole bed sharing thing a much larger problem in his mind than it really was, and even if he knew he was working himself up, he couldn’t help but lose sleep over it, unfortunately in the literal sense.  


____

Thoughtlessly, Dan shifted in the tiniest movements he could manage until he was facing in the opposite direction, propping himself up with one arm, looking at him without really meaning to or realizing that he was doing it. Phil’s hair was ruffled from sleep and the barest glimmer of blue-green light shone from the curling and splitting lines of magic across his face, standing out sharply in the light of the moon and catching his attention. More than that, though, it was the way he looked when he slept, a quiet sort of beauty and stillness that only reminded Dan of how much life Phil held within him. How much light and hope he carried to everyone he met. The strange, wonderful type of creativity that he’d used to tease him for when they were children, but admired just as much. The simple kindness and care he held towards other people, to make them feel welcomed and included and safe, even when met with fear and disgust. He held his hand back from gently pushing Phil’s hair out from where it had fallen into his face, slowly turning back to their tiny room as the moonlight cut through the blue-dark.  


____

Somehow, it was much easier to sleep after that.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, one of the most powerful pirates of all time was actually a Chinese woman, who inherited the fleet from her husband and then proceeded to handle it super well and get really rich. Though her real name isn't really known, she's called Ching Shih, which I believe means something like "wife of Cheng", her dead husband. Also, I'm making zero real attempts at historical or medical accuracy for the sake of having a decent story.


	4. The Witch's Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend listening to Heavy In Your Arms by Florence + the Machine during this one, especially later in the chapter (maybe a little bit after the second break, if we're being specific).  
> Some violence/fighting in this chapter.

When Dan woke, it was to find that he was being kicked in the back of the leg and that one of Phil’s arms was sprawled directly over his face. But the bed was warm and he was somehow still comfortable, so he decided to let it slide. After a few more minutes of drifting in and out of sleep, he forced himself out of the bed, a process that involved a lot of disentangling, but Phil only blinked at him blearily for a moment before immediately passing out again. From there, he bathed, dressed, and brought up a breakfast that was slightly less gross than dinner had been, though he was a little late judging by the amount of sunlight streaming in. Then again, it was very hard to mess up rolls and butter. He left some behind for Phil, along with a note so he’d know where he was, took what coins he thought they could spare from their stash, and headed out. He’d thought about waiting so they could leave together, but run into the uncomfortable realization that it wasn’t a good idea for Phil to leave at all, at least not in daylight, though it just made him more anxious to meet with the Queen. Besides, his first task was actually finding something he could wear to the ball, since his worn jacket certainly wouldn’t cut it, and there was no way Phil, as an actual prince, wouldn’t already have something.  


The tailor’s shop was hard to find, tucked between two taller buildings in the busiest part of the city, and Dan nearly walked right past it. He would’ve, if it hadn’t been for the rack of masquerade masks through the window that made him backtrack, because _perfect _. The store itself, though small and packed absolutely to the brim with racks and shelves of all sorts of clothes, was still a little fancier than he was comfortable with. Fortunately, the only other person in there so early was the clerk, who looked half asleep and like he really couldn’t care less. After stumbling through the shelves looking for something not completely outlandish, both in flash and price range, he settled on, along with dark pants and a ruffled white undershirt, a black jacket with silky maroon lining the collar and the and a little bit of gold detail, plain enough that he would only feel a little bit out of place but still formal enough for a ball, or at least he hoped so. From there, he browsed through the seemingly endless display of masks, elegant and curling and sharp at the edges, trying to find one that would cover the magic in Phil’s face that he’d like, finally settling on one and paying, feeling some sort of way about spending so much.  
__

____

He’d been worried that he might be so exhausted from the stress of transformation that he’d sleep the whole day, but Phil was up and already dressed for the night by the time he got back, lunch waiting for him in the room. From there, he dressed, and they waited until dark. The closer it got, the more he thought about how much could go wrong with simply waltzing through the palace doors and demanding the Queen give away the location of her secret witch ancestor because the prince of the neighboring kingdom was very cursed. Yep, it was obviously the most logical thing to do. But it wasn’t like they could work out anything else with the time they had and without drawing a whole bunch of attention to said curse, so the ball it was.  


The gates to the castle were wide open, well-dressed guests filing in around them as the sun set, and Dan forced himself not to pull the gold thread right out of his shirt from nervousness as they entered the courtyard, everyone around them already talking and eating comfortably. Phil immediately abandoned him in the search of desserts, but he just shook his head and smiled fondly when he reappeared, hands full of plates. They found a quiet corner to sit and chat in, waiting for the dance to fully begin and give them cover.  


“Look, I think that bird is going to build a nest in that lady’s hat,” Phil laughed, pointing to where a dove seemed to be eyeing up a very, very tall hat stacked with twigs in some sort of attempt at fashion.  


“Or it could just be looking for some crumbs, like birds do,” Dan pointed out, watching as it hopped closer to her across the grass and he shrugged, clearly preferring his nest-building theory.  


He liked to think he’d done a good job of choosing Phil’s mask, a gleaming black one that covered the top half of his face well. The edges were sharp and simple, except for the arches of the top corners, curling gently towards his temples, dotted with tiny dots of silver like stars. Along with the gilded royal blue vest he wore, shining with lines of silver, his eyes shone perfectly bright. Somehow, though any place that could’ve given his curse away had been carefully, and elegantly, covered, Dan still felt as though there was magic coming off of him, in the way he smiled or looked at the stars. Huh.  


Of course, they had to actually brave the palace eventually, no matter how nice just sitting in the grass and watching the crowds go by was. Unlike the Lester’s castle, which was filled with hallways and furniture and rooms and generally seemed lived in, what he could see of this one was broad and open, people moving freely through the immaculate ballroom. On the far side, the Queen sat in a small alcove with drawn curtains on either side, crown tall and shining even from so far away and guards positioned close around her as she watched the dancers. From what royal gossip he’d been let in on, her only son was just now of marrying age, and Phil theorized that this ball may have been a way for her to gently encourage him to actually meet people. That would explain, at least, why the queen sat alone, and Dan felt a little sympathetic; he’d been awkwardly shoved by his mother, sometimes literally, into much less fancy social events so she could help plan a wedding already. It hadn’t worked just yet. More importantly, though, there was no discreet way for them to reach the Queen, not when creeping around the edges of the ballroom floor would have been suspicious and there were hordes of dancers blocking the one clear path to her.  


Just then, a woman bumped into them, nearly knocking Phil over, and Dan instinctively grabbed him to make sure he didn’t fall. And hey, there’s an idea.  


“We should dance over until we’re close enough to the the Queen to talk to her, it’ll be discreet. Can you dance?” he asked, keeping his voice low, and Phil looked offended.  


“Just because being cursed doesn’t give me a bunch of chances to attend balls doesn’t mean I can’t dance. Can you dance?” he asked, and it was a fair point. A prince had every need to learn, Dan did not.  


“I can, thanks. Back when Martyn and Cornelia got engaged and there was that huge ball to celebrate, us commoners-” he teased, just to see his eyebrows scrunch up “--had a dance of our own, with free lessons and everything.” He’d been forced into so many of them, again by his hopeful mother, that he doubted he’d ever be able to forget how to dance. He looked like he was going to say something else, but then the musicians began a new song, this one a slow, lilting melody, and suddenly they were dancing. Seeing as his hands were already basically on his waist and he didn’t know any other way, Dan lead, Phil’s hands coming up to lock behind his neck as they moved onto the floor.  


The music, with the lights and the night and the partners around them, was strong enough to strike right through him as they went, finding an easy balance. It wasn’t anything grand, but they danced gracefully enough, just another drop in a sea of elegant clothes and airy notes. The place where Phil’s arms rested on his shoulders bled warmth into him and he couldn’t help but smile in the soft light of the candles, feeling suddenly feather-light. They shifted in tandem into the heart of the ballroom floor, always in the direction of the queen as the music swelled and swelled, taking him right along with it. It felt like there was a strange fire inside of him, making everything grand and wonderful and right as they moved in tandem; this, right here, was exactly where he was meant to be, the two of them dancing in a sea of color and shifting light and sound.  


When Dan realized that he was in love with Phil, it was not because of anything stunning or shocking or grand at all. Instead, he saw the way he smiled, looking so, so happy, and a motion he’d seen a million times was suddenly entirely new. His heart seemed to be trying to force its way right out of his chest and, in that instant, Dan was not dancing at all, but falling. He was back on that cliff on the day before the anniversary of his best friend’s death, his footing knocked out from under him, and though he had not begun to fall all the way, not just yet, there was not a fraction of doubt in his heart that he would crash into the waves below. A perfect, terrible inevitability.  


What he didn’t know was if Phil would be waiting for him beneath the water, or if this time, he really would drown.  


All at once, the song faded out, leaving Dan horribly, terribly alone with the truth, his hands still firmly against Phil’s waist and the two of them closer than before. He wanted to kiss him.  


Fuck.  


“Dan? Are you alright?” he asked, the concern in his voice just another nail in his heart-shaped coffin, and Dan realized that he’d sort of frozen to the ballroom floor awkwardly. He just nodded, forcing his body to move into the second dance, because they were close to the Queen’s alcove, now, and it was really just the worst time to let his own feelings get in the way. Of course, now that he was aware of them, they were impossible to ignore, just what he needed on top of his emotional crisis cake, because it wasn’t like there was anything he could do with them.  


Phil was his best friend, and even if they’d shared the very beginning of feelings once, that had been ten years ago, and so much had changed. He was lucky that he got to see him again at all, even luckier that they’d managed to fall back into being friends, and there was no way he could ever hope for more. It would be selfish, even. He’d been through so much already, he didn’t deserve to worry about Dan’s ridiculous feelings on top of everything else, and he couldn’t dream of holding him back from everything he wanted, not now. He’d been gifted a second chance, a chance to pay back his debt, for a friend and for his own life, and that’s what he’d do, not mess up what they already had.  


This time, he’d managed to keep moving while thinking, and they’d ended up twirling awkwardly in the area closest to the queen, not wanting to lose their chance but neither of them really sure what to do now that they were here. Finally, he let go of Phil, taking a step back and into the alcove where the queen sat because he couldn’t think of anything better. Immediately, the guards shifted forward, not yet drawing their weapons, which was good because it really would have dampened the mood of the ball, Dan thought.  


“Your Majesty, I’m sorry for the surprise, but we really, need to talk to you. Please hear what we have to say,” he rushed out before he could be forcibly escorted out of the castle, trying to be as courteous as possible because he really, really didn’t know what he was doing. Just to be sure, he started to sink down to one knee, but Phil shook his head aggressively so he stood back up. The Queen, an older woman with a stern face, brown skin, and green eyes that he felt looked right through him, didn’t seem particularly alarmed by their sudden arrival.  


“I didn’t exactly throw a ball in the hopes of having meetings. If it’s that important, I can spare an hour some time in the next week,” she sighed, and Dan’s heart sank. But Phil stepped forward, holding something in his hand.  


“Please, I need your help.” It was a small silver brooch, the outline of his family’s crest carefully carved into it. Each member of Cygnus’s royalty owned one, and the Queen’s eyes widened in recognition.  


“Guards, let my son know that it’s time for him to make his entrance and close the curtains, that should be enough of a distraction that no one will wonder. Thank you. Now, are you a messenger? How did you get such a crest, and why have you come to me with it?” she asked Phil, her voice firm but interested.  


Instead of speaking, he just reached up and delicately undid his mask, pulling it off and letting it hang down from his neck. The Queen’s eyes widened, then quickly narrowed.  


“Prince Philip. This is certainly a surprise, seeing as I haven’t seen you since you were a very small child. At least I know now why I never heard anything about the school you were supposedly attending.”  


Phil gave a feeble wave, and her face turned stern once more.  


“However,” he put his hand down, “if you have been cursed by my grandmother so severely, it would be for a good reason, and I will not go against her decisions just for royal blood.”  


“It’s not his curse, M’am. It was passed down, and he doesn’t deserve to live his life in isolation and pain because of someone else’s mistake. We just need to know where she is so we can at least try and break it,” Dan said, not looking away when she stared him down, though he was tempted.  


“And who are you? A servant? A guard? A friend?” She paused for a moment, gaze calculating enough to make him sweat. “A lover?” No matter how many times the pirates made the same accusation, this time it cut differently, the word striking him in his chest and setting him off-balance simply because of the way his heart leapt at it. Without thinking, he stepped away from him, raising his hands as though to protect himself, because maybe that’s exactly what he was doing.  


“No! No, it’s nothing like that at all.” He was talking too loudly, too urgently, and he just barely managed to make his voice a little more even. “I’m here because he saved my life and I need to repay him, that’s all. It’s a debt and nothing else.” He didn’t even think about what he was saying, just trying to put some distance between himself and that word, _lover _, because he wanted it so badly; it didn’t matter if what he was saying was entirely true or not, all he could think about was calming himself down. He handled that pretty okay, Dan thought, the Queen’s attention no longer focused on him.  
__

____

At his side, Phil half-flinched and when Dan turned to him, there was a flash of something that he didn’t have time to name on his face, something like a wound. And then he looked measured and careful in an unusual way for him, turning back to the Queen and away from Dan. He wanted to ask him what was wrong, reach out to him in whatever way he could no matterm, even if he himself was still frazzled, but Phil wouldn’t even look at him. The queen was leaning forward slightly, carefully examining the marks of the curse across his skin.  


“If it is not his curse to bear… my aunt is a very secreti--” Phil had sort of awkwardly raised his hand right in the middle of her very serious decision, though he was still turned slightly away.  


“No, she’s not my actual aunt,” she said, and his hand went down. “It’s much easier than adding all of the greats. She’s a very secretive person, even for a witch of her powers. These days, I don’t blame her, as there has been more fear of magic in our kingdom than usual, but such increases and decreases simply happen every once in awhile, according to her. Because of this, I can only guide you most of the way, but not all. And if you reveal her whereabouts to anyone at all, there will be consequences for you and your entire kingdom. Follow Pheasant Road out of the town, and once you are close, this will take you the rest of the way.” She pulled a small satin bag of deep purple out of her pocket and placed it gently into Dan’s palm, since he was closer. Inside was a tiny silver arrow, the surface shimmering with the same turquoise magic of the curse. The Witch’s trademark. He tucked it away again as Phil carefully replaced his mask, both of them thanking the queen with sincerity.  


“The curse hasn’t been broken yet, so don’t thank me. Now go, and please stay out of my hair for at least a while longer.” She waved them away as the crowds outside the alcove began to roar, but Dan couldn’t feel the excitement of the ball anymore, somehow.  


As they walked back to the inn, he tried to shake off whatever disconnect he was feeling, seeing as there was plenty to be excited about.  


“So… one or two more days until we actually get to talk to the Witch, huh? And I’m sure she’ll say yes to breaking the curse, seeing as it wasn’t meant for you and everything. We’re so close to breaking it!” He said, trying to push through the quiet that had fallen over Phil with enthusiasm alone. Instead, he seemed to almost shrink back, not quite looking at him as he replied.  


“I can’t really believe it at all, I’m so used to just dealing with it. I guess we’ll be able to go home soon, too, and you won’t have to worry about all this magic stuff anymore. It can be a lot.” His voice was light, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.  


“Oh, uh, I guess.” It was true that he hadn’t really been prepared for being thrown into a world of spells like this, but he’d nearly forgotten about that now. He just didn’t know how to say any of that, so in silence they remained, but not the easy kind that they’d shared before. Instead, it was a little bit like both of them were trying to get as far away from each other as possible, except they were going to the same place for the same reason, and he couldn’t figure out when things had changed. The whole thing, mixed with his own feelings, left him uneasy and tense.  


When they returned to the Herald, the strange man at the desk announced that another room had opened up. He assumed they’d just share another night anyway, because it was cheaper and without the chaos of moving someone’s stuff to the new room, but Phil spoke up before they could talk it over.  


“That would be perfect, thanks!” he insisted, beaming and staring straight ahead. The words didn’t come with barbs and they weren’t even aimed at him, but something about Phil’s forcefully cheerful tone stung a little all the same. Was spending time with him really so terrible? But Dan cut off that train of thought as they went their separate ways in silence; he was being ridiculous. Phil wanting his own space, which was totally normal, wasn’t all about him. It could have been for any number of reasons that he didn’t want to share, but something in his heart that he wasn’t entirely fond of still twisted. 

* * *

When they set off down Pheasant Road the next day and he’d had some time to actually process his own feelings, he expected there to be excitement in the air at being so close, everything perfectly back to normal, but he was wrong. No matter how hard he tried to start a conversation, Phil only gave one word answers, walking briskly ahead and still not looking at him, not really. When he tried to ask what was wrong, he just brushed it off as being tired, but Dan knew him well enough to see the lie for what it was. He just didn’t know why, and it was driving him crazy as the day stretched on. It was much, much harder to simply move on in the quiet of the forest when he kept wondering why Phil couldn’t even trust him all of the sudden and he couldn’t think of any reason for the disconnect. To top it all of, he’d barely managed to sleep at all the night before and they’d left the city behind before realizing that they were low enough of food that they’d have to ration it, meaning he hadn’t had a decent breakfast. The more he tried to relax the more tense he felt, the more he tried not to think about his own annoyance the more annoyed he became, with the silence between them building until it felt he was on the edge of shouting just to break it. Because he was hungry, and tired, but mostly it just hurt that Phil wouldn’t talk to him and wouldn’t tell him why, that he was acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t. Dan was drowning in the poison of his thoughts, with nothing to pull him out. By the time they stopped to eat a few scraps in the late afternoon, settling in a small glade on the edge of the dirt path, it felt like they were both trying to pretend the other didn’t exist while being incredibly aware of every bit of negativity radiating back and forth between them. Dan wished he could’ve been surprised when they fought.  


They worked in silence, to no one’s surprise, until, when he was handing over a piece of bread, their hands brushed together for just half a second, such a tiny motion that he almost didn’t notice it. He wouldn’t have, except for the fact that Phil jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, like being anywhere near him was the curse, eyes a flash of something that bit in the second before he turned away, and Dan was just so, so sick of everything.  


“Okay, was it me? Did I do something here, and that’s why you’re acting like this? Because if I did, I’d really like to know, thanks,” he bit out, a sour edge to his voice that he couldn’t stop and that actually got Phil to look at him, face strangely guarded once more. Finally.  


“No, you haven’t done anything,” He gritted out, clearly lying and just making Dan angrier.  


“Then why are you acting like such a prick? I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong all day, the least you could do was just tell me if you wanted to be left alone instead of acting like a little kid about it.” Dan knew he’d been equally sullen after awhile, but he didn’t care.  


“Why do you care what I do, anyway?” Still not an answer. “We’ll get the curse broken, and then we won’t be stuck together anymore. You can do what you want.” Phil’s face hardened, and it was Dan’s turn to be stung. Did he really feel like that’s all they were, stuck together? His hurt twisted itself around in his ribcage, rearing with fangs bared to bite back against the source of it.  


“Good! If you’re so sick of me, _Your Majesty _, clearly I should just make myself scarce. I’m sorry, I should’ve just read your mind. Clearly that’s what you expect from all your subjects.” He was lying, aiming exactly where he knew it would hurt, but the pain on Phil’s face was honest.  
__

____

The small part of Dan that wasn’t angry-shaking-burning immediately regretted it. The rest of him, though, was what made him step forward, challenging.  


“Go ahead and go, you’ve done more than enough.” It wasn’t a thank you. Phil’s voice was cold and steely, and Dan sort of wanted to punch his lights out. That was exactly what made him turn around and walk away into the woods, the realization alarming enough to cut through the heat inside of him. He was here to protect Phil, and if the best way to do that was to disappear then he would, no matter how much he wanted to keep shouting, until he knew what was wrong or something broke, just so he didn’t have to feel like this anymore. But more than that, Phil was his friend, beyond just what he’d promised the King and Queen, and that made him turn away.  


“I’m going to get some firewood, don’t wait up for me,” he gritted out after a moment, biting back the sarcastic ‘my liege’ that would’ve been so easy to add.  


Dan walked further into the trees, all his anger holding steady within him like the roar of cicadas from every direction, crushing. He kicked a tree and then hopped around on one foot when the impact still hurt through his boots, then decided that it had to be Phil’s fault. He walked for what felt like forever, deeper and deeper into the woods, until his attempt to keep being angry failed, the rage and curiosity and exhaustion bleeding out of him with each step. He forced himself to stop, pausing to breathe deeply and look at what was around him, because he’d been too busy glaring down at his feet before.  


The woods here were more awake than back home, fresh green sprouts pushing out from below and ferns beginning to unwind wherever he looked. The air was earthy and fresh, strange to him without the familiar breeze of the ocean, but stranger still in the forest’s quiet. It was a deep sort of silence that somehow managed to mix with the flutter of bird wings, a breeze through the budding leaves, the muffled babble of a distant stream; it was a silence from people. There wasn’t the busy noise of a city, the chatter, the sound of wheels over stone. It was just him, the noises of the forest, and, somewhere, the Witch. She’d seemed far off before, but here, in this forest that he felt held something below the surface, he wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t menacing, just… a presence, like the trees around him.  


His head cleared by the silence, Dan was left with guilt eating away at him instead of rage. Clearly something was bothering Phil, and even if he was being a twat and refusing to talk about it, he should’ve at least tried to stay quiet if he couldn’t manage calm. Instead, he’d just made things worse for both of them, even if he’d been hurting, too. Not to mention that what they’d even argued about, exactly, was a mystery to him. Despite his strange behavior and what he’d said, Dan had trouble really believing that Phil couldn’t stand him, no matter how much he was doubting at the moment. Why would he only act like it now? His question from before still taunted him: had he done something?  


Pacing around within his chosen patch of trees, he racked his mind for anything that could’ve happened. Everything had seemed perfectly fine until last night, and seeing as he was pretty sure that Phil couldn’t read his mind, there was no way he knew about his newly-discovered feelings. If it was just doubts about seeing the Witch or something curse-related, he couldn’t think of a single reason that he would act like this about it. So what was it? He thought back to when he’d first noticed that something felt wrong between them, while talking to Sune’s queen. All he’d said was that he was trying to repay his debt-- oh.  


He hadn’t just said that he was repaying his debt. In his panic to move the conversation away from any implications of love, he’d said that he was _only _repaying his debt, that he wasn’t there because they were friends but because he had saved his life. Suddenly, everything Phil had said about them being stuck together made sense, not because he suddenly hated his guts, but because he thought that Dan was only there out of obligation rather than trust, because _Dan had literally said that right in front of him _. Like he wouldn’t have gone to the ends of the earth with Phil if he asked, life debt or not.  
____

_____ _

He sighed, staring up at a tiny patch of evening sky, then proceeded to bang his forehead against a nearby tree trunk softly enough for it to not really hurt, because he felt ridiculous.  


“Idiot.” Thunk.  


“Idiot.” Thunk.  


“Idiot.” Thunk.  


Of course Phil would be hurt; on top of being getting yelled at he was tired, hungry, and full of all the hopes they’d placed on this journey, along with everything that could still go wrong. Dan turned towards the small gap in the underbrush he’d come from, walking briskly back towards their camp, an apology already forming on his tongue. The return trip was longer than he’d expected without the haze of anger, giving him plenty of time to work out exactly how he wanted to say that he was sorry, but he recognized the space of the road when he was close enough.  


“Hey, Phil? I’m really sorry for--” He rounded the corner and froze. Phil was nowhere in sight, but worse than that, the camp was a mess. Their few belongings had been ransacked, clothes strewn across the leaves and his bag ripped open. There was a patch of earth that had been disturbed and he stepped into the clearing to inspect it, trying to fight down the creeping feeling of _wrongwrongwrong _settling over him. There were scuffs in the dirt from a few different sets of boots, and marks where desperate fingers had dug into the earth just to be pulled away. The silence of the forest was no longer pleasant, instead crushing down on him, only the sound of his frantic breath there to break through the leaves and the drone of cicadas. There was a scatter of red on the leaves. Dan dug the witch’s arrow out of his pocket on the thought that she might be close in this place, whirling around as the panic set in with a yell for Phil on his lips, only to find himself surrounded by a set of unfamiliar faces closing in.  
__

____

The capture was a blur. Before he could react there was a stuffy bag over his head, the string that cinched it scratching terribly against his neck as his arms were grabbed. He kicked out blindly, felt his foot meet something solid, heard woman’s yell of pain, and managed to jerk his arms free. He wasn’t thinking, really, his body moving on its own as fear took over everything. Running when he couldn’t see wouldn’t work, so he had to get the bag-- he raised one hand defensively, the other one scrabbling at the patchy fabric as people shouted around him. But Dan had no reason to know how to fight, certainly not people he couldn’t see and not this many. When he was grabbed again it was twice as hard, the group jeering and snarling. Dan heard the lightest woosh of air in front of him before a fist connected with his face. His neck snapped to the side with the force of it; his head seemed to rattle, and the light leaking through the sack became sort of hazy, but any real pain was distant. The ringing in his skull was enough to make him go limp for a while, only half walking as his captors dragged him along.  


From there, though Dan would occasionally writhe, there wasn’t much he could do except keep the Witch’s arrow held tightly in his hand. Even as his mind seemed to be working against him, everything hazy, he knew that he couldn’t lost it. No matter how long he looked or listened for anything useful, it was all muted and he couldn’t figure out where he was or why he’d been taken like this. The bag over his head was stuffy and all he could do was breathe the same breath over and over, sweat beginning to drip down from his forehead. To make things worse, the pain of getting hit finally came over him, a constant sharp ache in his jaw and a duller beat at the back of his skull.  


Finally, he felt one of the guards on him stumble, and he tried yanking himself free again now that he could sort of think because he had to find Phil-- but the fingers digging into his shoulders and wrists remained steady. A man from somewhere in front of him sighed heavily.  


“He’s fighting too much, put him under.” Through the haze in his skull, Dan still found the energy to be sarcastic, thinking ‘oh joy’ and nothing else.  


Something cold and wet was pressed against the back of his neck, the faint smell of mint and jasmine crept over him, and even as he fought to keep his eyes open, he was already falling asleep.

* * *

Dan woke to cold all around him, his first thought that winter had crept back up from its sleep and devoured spring once more. The second was that his face hurt, the back of his neck stung, and he could feel the raw press of rope against his wrists, tying him to something. He forced his head up and eyes open, everything moving slow. The world took a second to focus, showing him a damp stone room, the cold hear the same as their cellar back home. He was propped up in a chair, barely able to move as he watched the weak fire of a lamp glow around the dark room. The shadows moved, and he realized that there was something in the corner.  


It was bigger than a human, hunched over slightly against the stone, and covered with purple feathers that dripped and melted like the wax of an old candle. It was closer to a person than a bird, but really neither, with scaled hands and wide eyes that glowed out of the shadows of its face, and was made up out of strange shapes and claws, not quite standing. He couldn’t make out a face, but its eyes looked pained, and it shifted backwards at the same time he did, as though not wanting to be seen. It reminded him of the way Phil had been, at first, in a strange way.  


Phil! Where was he? Was he hurt? Had these people taken him, too? His mind raced, and Dan jolted into being fully awake all at once, heart pounding. He couldn’t help him like this, and now he could be hurt, or a worse, a thought that he couldn’t stand. He craned his head around, looking for anything or anyone else in this godforsaken room with him besides the creature, finding only a few closed doors and nothing else. He was about to yell for him when a man opened another door in front of him, entering the room with a sort of casualness that was unnerving. The thing in the corner straightened, ruffling.  


“Where’s Phil?” Dan gritted out, staring the man down with all the fire in his heart.  


“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he chided, and Dan recognized his voice as the same one that had given the order to knock him out. “I’m the leader of our little operation here. You see, we consider ourselves a force for the collective good of the people, and--”  


“I don’t care,” he barked, desperately trying to think of a way out. He shifted his hands against the rope, and something pressed against his palm: the Witch’s arrow. Carefully, he shifted it so the sharp edge was against his bonds, hoping that he knew what he was doing at all. If he could just…  


“Oh, that’s too bad. This is just my way of explaining what happened to your friend, and you certainly seem to care about him. Besides, you’ve got nowhere to go and nothing to do but listen, so long as you’re here. Now, where were we? Right, our way of protecting the people, of keeping them safe,is to rid this world of silly illusions.” Dan wasn’t sure what that had to do with Phil, but as long as he could keep this guy distracted from the movement of his hands, it didn’t matter.  


“Illusions? What’s that mean?”  


“Things pretending to be something they’re not, of course. There are humans, and then there are spellcasters, changers, and beasts of magic that masquerade among the normal folk. We simply reveal what that magic looks like or… confine them to their purest form if they already have one, like your friend. All of these creatures are harmless alone, of course. It’s not that we dislike their magic, that’s something they didn’t choose and punishing them for that would be just unfair. It’s their mixing in with humans, really. This puts others outside of their kind in danger and risks their ailments spreading. Someone could get hurt,” he crooned, like he was kindly explaining something to a child, and Dan’s blood ran cold even as he kept working. Like magic was a disease, a blemish on this madman’s idea of a perfect world, like the people who used it were only pretending to be people at all. Where would that put Phil?  


“That’s stupid, but what could you possibly do about it in the first place?” He cut through one loop of rope, keeping his face neutral.  


“Why, we simply expose their true forms! They are free to go about their lives in peace, but they cannot trick anyone into thinking that they are like us. It’s simply a little method to keep them… honest.” The leader smiled, and Dan shook his head, trying not to think about anything but the careful movement of his hands. “Take a look at Cal here! All the same magic, the same feelings, the same soul as before, but now the magic is simply shown on the outside, too. This is their true appearance, for all to see.” He gestured to the feathered form in the corner, and Dan froze. Not a creature, but a person. One warped and changed and torn until unrecognizable, but a person nonetheless. He felt bile rise in his throat, wondering who they’d been, who they could possibly become now, and forced himself to stay calm.  


“So you’ve got some made up justification to be afraid of anything different than you, good to know. You can hurt anyone without feeling bad because you don’t even have a conscience. If there’s anything wrong here, it’s your shitty philosophy.” The man sighed, shaking his head like he really, truly felt sorry for Dan, though it just made him angrier. He’d feel sorry in a minute, that's for sure, but it would be for himself; Dan was nearly through the last strings.  


“I see he’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he? Pulled you in with all that enchantment and excitement and glamour so you couldn’t see what was beneath it. Such a shame, you would’ve made a fine advocate for our cause with all that determination, but I’m sure a martyr will be nearly as good. Can you imagine what the people will say? A meager commoner, risking his life and leaving everything behind just to help this man, despite the curse upon him, only to be killed ruthlessly by that same magic? And the prince, of all people? It’s such a shame…” His voice dripped with mock sadness that did nothing to hide the threat underneath it, spelling out his death, but Dan took half a second to push down his fear. The man shifted slightly, and he took grim satisfaction in noticing that there were deep claw marks across his shoulder, still fresh.  


In the next moment, three things happened. First, he cut through the last of the rope, freeing his hands, and leapt to his feet. Second, a band of very angry and very loud pirates burst into the room, weapons raised as guards ran in from the opposite door. Third, all hell broke loose. The man before him backed away, disappearing in the chaos of the fight, the smug, dangerous look slipping off of his face. Dan, thrown off balance, watched in awe as Joel flipped a man onto his back and Sam stabbed another in the shins, crowing victoriously. Then there wasn’t any time to wonder, because he found himself turning and running further into the building behind the crew, because everything but finding Phil could wait. For just a moment, he turned to look at Cal, backed into a corner, hoping that he could say enough without words because he didn’t have the time to stop.  


The space was larger than he’d thought, and he passed dozens of rooms and hallways lined in stone, seeing only glances of what lay inside before moving on again. One heald boxes and boxes of herbs and flowers, the next nothing but a tapestry of sigils etched into the walls, making his head spin in just the second he looked at them, and in the one after that was a huge, mangled wolf that, as he paused to stare, threw itself against the bars of the cage, elongated, twisted mouth snarling. Dan hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how much he could spare, then gave in. Grabbing a set of keys off an unconscious guard and finding the right one for the cage didn’t take very long, and he edged slowly into the cage. The beast--no, he didn’t know what this was, or who, stilled, letting him undo the shackles around long, snaring paws. It stared at him, seemed to nod once, and then was gone in a flash out the door, leaving him to wonder about how many people had been changed or trapped for their magic. When he went back into the hall, it was to find Captain Shih easily disarming another guard, directing just the start of a smile towards him.  


“What--why is your crew here? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but how?” he asked, voice raised over the yells around them.  


“There was a leak in our ship passing along information about your betrothed’s curse to members of this group and, as our cargo, I decided that letting harm befall you from my own lack of vigilance would be cowardly. Joel may have had a say in it, as well. I assure you that, after he lead us right here, Louis is no longer amongst our ranks,” she said, no mercy for the traitor in her voice, and Dan wished he could have been more surprised as he remembered his strange gaze. He didn’t even bother arguing the betrothed part just then, even though Shih had been fully informed of their situation the entire time, including the part that they were very much not engaged.  


“Thank you, all of you, so much. I can’t stay, I need to find Phil, but if you could let all the cre--everyone trapped here…” He rushed out, adrenaline pushing him forwards once again. She nodded and waved him away with the promise to raid the treasury, too, and the part of his brain that was focused on anything besides finding Phil and getting them both out of here knew that the situation was in good hands.  


From there, Dan ran until his lungs felt like they’d give out, every heartbeat seeming too long, and then the sound of water met his ears. He forced a door open at the very end of the hallway, the guards distracted by the surrounding chaos, and felt a momentary relief settle heavy over him. Phil was there, and he was alive, and he was himself. The deep, unnamed fear in him retreated to the edges of his heart and lingered there.  


Most of the room was filled with a large glass tank of water that came up to about his shoulders, tubes and pipes reaching into it from out of the walls. The only other thing in the space was a small, frail looking bed, the kind that was used in infirmaries with restraints hanging off of it, but his attention was elsewhere. They saw each other at the same time, Phil swimming gracefully to the side of the tank and pressing webbed fingers to the glass in excitement. He was fully transformed, tailed and clawed and gilled, the fins running down his sides shifting as he moved like an enchantment. Still, there was a thin scratch running down from his neck to his collarbone, a few bruises dappling his skin, and he looked exhausted, but the fact that he was there at all was a gift. He looked like he was going to do something, but Dan interrupted him with the one thought on his mind.  


“I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just frustrated and tired, and I’m really, really sorry that I accidentally said I was only here because you saved me. I came because you’re my friend and you don’t deserve to have to hide your whole life, because I chose to. I’m here because I care about you,” He finished, talking fast and resisting the urge to tack a ‘platonically’ on at the end to make certain it wasn’t a confession, but Phil didn’t seem to take it that way, just blinking before writing on the top edge of the tank, where it was misted over.  


_It’s okay, I was being dumb about it. I shouldn’t have yelled at you either and I’m also sorry, _he scribbled out, offering a webbed thumbs up which Dan returned. Then he remembered that there were slightly more important things than apologies right at that exact moment, maybe.  
__

____

“Right,” he said, looking around. Things got much more complicated from there.  


_I can’t change, _wrote Phil on the misted glass, confirming Dan’s second fear; these people had already gotten to him, bound him in the form he was trying to leave behind. But that didn’t mean defeat, not yet.  
__

____

“The witch might still be able to break the curse, even after whatever they did,” he suggested, Phil nodding from where his head was partially out of the water. Even if he was stuck, a curse was still a curse and that meant it could be broken. “I’ll just have to go alone and convince her to come here instead.” He nodded again, and for a moment, they had a plan that might just work, even with all that had changed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t hear the footsteps and ragged breathing from behind him, didn’t notice the way Phil’s eyes widened, until it was too late. Something smashed into the glass of the tank, the sound of it shattering cutting through every other sound and tearing at his insides. In an instant, the whole thing broke, water and glass rushing out onto the floor, leaving Phil with nothing.  


He turned, feeling as though the world was in slow motion, to see the leader with a crazed look in his eyes and Dan hated him. But before he could move, before he could think, before he could even breathe, the man before him froze. Slowly, stone began creeping up his back and over his shoulders, rushing like water over his skin and encasing him all at once. He fell heavily to the ground, his face still twisted in a shitty imitation of pride, revealing Cal’s bent form, still shifting away from the light.  


“The spell will wear off and he’ll survive. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” they croaked in a voice like the rustling of the woods at night and the ache of loss.  


“Thank you. I am, too,” Dan managed as he rushed to Phil’s side where he was crumpled on the floor. There was still a layer of salt water in the room, but not nearly enough, and there were scratches all across his torso and arms. His eyes were focused on his hands, methodically scooping water up and running it over his gills and Dan knew it couldn't last. He tore off pieces of cloth from his own jacket, the fabric slowly giving beneath his hands. Phil picked up on what he was doing, grabbing one, soaking it in the water, and spreading it over his gills. It wasn’t enough, couldn’t possibly be enough, but it was all he could think of. Phil’s breaths deepened as Cal’s large form crouched next to him, clawed hands reaching out and hovering above his tail for a moment.  


“I’m not powerful enough to return him to his other form, and if the curse upon him isn’t reversed soon, no one will be able to. You need to bring him to the Witch,” they hissed and Phil nodded, his eyes clear and determined as they met Dan’s. Cursed, warped, but still human.  


“Okay. Okay, I can do that.” He didn’t know, really, if he could, but there wasn’t any choice. There wasn’t any time. Dan forced himself to stand, wrapping the rest of the soaked fabric around Phil’s neck in the desperate hope that it would last them, putting one arm under his back because walking was out of the question. Before he could begin to lift him, though, he felt a hand on his shoulder, Phil’s fins flaring weakly.  


As soon as he paused, moving back, Phil began tapping first at his own chest with an open hand and then at Dan’s, repeating the motion again and again with a frantic sort of urgency. He stared, distracted by the fact that he still had the pendant Dan had given him for his birthday around his neck and not sure what he was trying to say, just that it had to be important. Phil sighed, rolling his eyes in familiar exasperation that just hurt with the exhaustion and hard breathing behind it. He tried again, slowly tapping a finger first to his own cracked lips, and then Dan’s. In a wave, he understood, the world blurring at the edges for a moment, because not here, not this way.  


A kiss.  


“Oh. Oh god,” Dan gasped, and Phil nodded, smiling in a sad sort of way, here in this flood. “Me too. I love you too, Phil.” If he’d thought he’d known what fear, what desperation, what love felt like, he’d been wrong, because now he was being crushed by them. To have _this _, to be with his best friend, to know that Phil felt the same way, just to have it snatched out of his fingertips on the edge of a beginning… for a moment, he was twelve years old again, crying on the cold castle floor with Phil’s mother, his world tilting and spinning out of control.  
__

____

He wanted, he wanted. Dan wanted so badly to kiss Phil, so much that it tore him apart, but he couldn’t. It would feel like a goodbye and he wasn’t ready for that. He never would be, but especially not then. Instead, he lifted Phil as much as he could and began the journey to the Witch’s lair. The moment he managed to drag them out of that horrible place and into clean air, the Witch’s arrow was hanging just in front of his face, humming and pointing into the forest. It meant that they were close at least, but not nearly close enough, he thought, trudging painfully on. Phil’s breathing was labored even with the wet rags over his gills and his long tail dragged through the dirt and leaves and thorns beneath them, blood and earth caking his scales, but he couldn’t lift him any higher. If he was human, maybe, but as it was his arms burned and his boots fell heavy to the earth. A body so powerful and graceful in the sea, trapped here like it was, became another obstacle. He followed the direction of the arrow through the woods, flitting just ahead of him.  


____

Dan was heaving, his lungs burning, and he couldn’t imagine how it was for Phil. Each step was painful, bright, sharp pain blooming in his legs and shoulders and arms, and everything became a daze. All he could do was keep moving forward. Phil’s eyes were closed and his arms were loose around Dan’s neck, but he was still breathing in that shallow way that made his stomach coil in icy fear.  


____

The woods began to change, though he didn’t notice through the pain and the fear and the haze. Though it was still afternoon, a dusk began to settle over everything, all misted blues and night time quiet until even the constant cries of the cicadas disappeared. The land of the Witch. Roots began to spread wider from the trees around them, but instead of snaring and tripping, they wound together carefully to form a near-smooth path beneath the branches. A sky of leaves was above, trapping in the magic, but when he glanced up for half a second, Dan swore he could see the glimmer of early stars. Here, there was no distinct sound, not even the slightest breeze, but he felt the last, fading notes of chimes in his ribs even so. And then there were the fireflies. They were the first thing Dan really and truly noticed outside of his own footsteps and the faint press of Phil’s breath against him, foggy points of yellow light. First, there was just one, blinking in and out of existence on the path in front of him, and all at once there were more than he could count. They all moved separately, each one was its own separate point of light in the half-dark, casting light to nothing but themselves. They shifted and danced in swirls in front of him, and no matter how long he moved forward, they were always just ahead.  


____

Though it cleared his head slightly, the pain was not eased. Phil was heavy in his arms, the fear heavier still. He did not trust the magic. There could’ve been beasts, tricks, and spells to keep the humans away, but he couldn’t care. He would become the most dangerous thing in these Witch’s woods if it meant saving Phil, even magicless and exhausted. He knew that they were close now, knew it in the magic that rested feather-light on everything here and danced in the roots beneath his feet, but he did not know if that was enough. Even if--no, when, he made himself think-- when he found the Witch, what would he do then? He would ask her, first, to undo this curse that was not meant for Phil, and let him live. If, at the very least, she can keep him alive, that would be enough, because a cursed life is better than none.  


____

If she did not agree, he would beg and bargain, he decided. The King and Queen of Cygnus would exchange any amount of gold, jewels, and status for their son’s life, no matter if he was the one to inherit the kingdom or not. Dan knew in that moment that he, too, would trade anything he had for the man he loved, which scared him more than anything. His blood, his future, his soul, whatever this Witch found useful. Phil already has his heart, anyway. Even if he never even got to see him again, though the thought burned, being able to know that he was still alive, still had the chance to be happy, would be enough. And if he had to endure a curse of his own, raise his fists or any weapon he could find just for the hope of saving his life, if he had to face an eternity alone, he would still try.  


____

It overwhelmed him, the incredible storm of things that he would do for Phil, without hesitation, how powerful his own feelings were. Because he knew in his heart that Phil would do the same, could feel it as he carried his shaking body through the woods. So Dan forced himself onward through the pain like fire, never sure how long he dragged the two of them forward, step after step. When he saw the house, he didn’t let himself hope, not yet.  


____

The arrow stopped mid air, its job done as it directed them forward just a few paces more. The Witch’s house was not what Dan expected. It was a small cottage, smaller than his family’s own home near the mill, made of wood and stone and glass rather than jewels or bones or glamour. There was nothing special or noticeable about it, except for the fireflies that still shifted above the roof, but it was where the arrow pointed. A strange house for a witch.  


____

Dan didn’t care, though, couldn’t possibly in a hundred years care what sort of house she lived in, so long as she heard what he had to say because he was so very close now. His legs were stiff and aching as he walked heavily up onto the porch, Phil’s limp tail still dragging painfully behind him. He couldn’t set him down, not yet, whether because he felt like he’d never have the strength to pick him up again or because he didn’t want to let go of the tiny hold he had on him, what little he could do in this terrible situation, he didn’t know. Instead, he kicked at the door, not even feeling the pain. The doorway shifted, growing larger until it could fit the two of them, tail and all, in easily, and he was too tired to be thankful for the magic. He took a deep breath, standing on the edge of the Witch’s lair, ready to shout and plead and barter. Phil’s breathing was nothing more than weak gasp, the rags around his neck nearly dry, and he didn’t know if he was already too late.  


____

And then there was a witch standing in front of him, hand raised and a disk of glowing light, that familiar blue-green, held in her palm, her eyes wild as they met his. He tensed, watching as her gaze shifted down to the arrow still hovering behind him and then to Phil, hanging in his arms, her look flashing with undeniable recognition, then confusion, and then understanding. Her hand lowered and he risked a breath.  


____

“Help him.”

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These idiots sure are bad at feelings, huh?


	5. Lovespell

The witch did not ask questions, for which Dan was indescribably thankful. He had the answers and would do anything he needed to convince her if she hesitated, but exhaustion was pulling him down and she did not hesitate. With a wave of her hand, she lifted Phil out of his arms and into the air, and all he could do was trail after them as she carried him further into her house. Though the details escaped him in the slow blur of desperation, he thought distantly that the space was bigger than he’d thought for a cottage. Finally, she opened a door with a little wave, stopping in a room that might have been large, but with the shelves of bottles filling every single space around the edges of it, each one a dark blue with a tiny white label sticking off of it, it seemed smaller. In the center was a table lined with fabric which she carefully rested Phil on, then with another wave of her hand, the witch drew in water from out of one of the bottles and curled it over his gills. His breathing deepened, and Dan let himself breathe, too.  


“I need to work alone now, you can wait in the third room on the left. You’ve done everything you can, thank you,” ordered the witch, her voice soft and even and not particularly kind, but comforting nonetheless. Moving slowly, he nodded, backing out of the room while trying to keep one eye on Phil. He stepped out into the hall, but before he could turn around, just to make sure he was okay one more time, the door slammed shut. Probably for the best; like she’d said, he couldn’t help anymore.  


Dan found himself in the parlor a few moments later without really knowing how, in a worn but comfortable red armchair. Sitting was nice, and he felt like he might have fallen over if he was left to stand any longer, but now there was not much to think about except for if Phil would be okay. Not exactly helpful when there was nothing for him to do. On one hand he was exhausted, the adrenaline from the last stretch seeping out of him, but on the other all he could do was wait, and it was infuriating. There wasn’t any rest to be had quite yet. He tapped his leg against the ground with restless energy, drummed his fingers against the edge of the chair until the sensation became odd, and hummed to himself. There was still nothing for him to do. Dan sighed, forcing himself to sit back in the chair so he wouldn’t bother the Witch.  


He settled for looking around the little room. The real size of the house was definitely concealed from the outside, though he’d probably do something similar if he had the magic. The parlor was comfortable, with woolen rugs scattered over the floor along with couches and chairs in a mismatch of colors and fabrics, some still shiny and new while springs and stuffing poked out of others. There was a fireplace in the corner, giving off a warmth that was just the perfect temperature, and even if the flames were a good bit more green than was expected, Dan wasn’t going to complain. The walls were stacked all the way up to the ceiling with bookshelves, though quite a few of them were in languages he didn’t even recognize and the ones in english were generally about thing like “correct combinations of herbs to combat the common cold” or “house-spirit care: what not to do” or “concealment magic for the very, very, very advanced”. All of them seemed a little bit out of his reach, in short.  


Dan, so as not to lose his mind, was leafing vaguely through the stacks of paper on the coffee table in the middle of the room, mostly of ingredients and enchantments, when something caught his eye. It was a letter, written in careful, curling handwriting, and though he managed to keep himself from actually reading it and invading a very powerful witch’s privacy, it seemed to be a letter from Sune’s queen, asking if the Witch knew any nice young people her son might get along with. What held his attention though, was the name it was addressed to: Raine. It made sense that it was an older name, seeing as she’d clearly been alive for at least a couple hundred years. Somehow, it just hadn’t occurred to Dan that even witches would have names. Immediately, he shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself. Duh, of course witches had names, dumbass. It was just that he’d been so wrapped up in thinking of her as the one who’d gotten them into this mess, as the one that could get them out, as the goal, that he hadn’t really thought of her as a person. Sure, the person who had placed a curse strong enough to last through generations on a member of the royal family, but a still a person.  


He drifted off into a shallow sleep after an hour or so of waiting, curled up in the armchair nearest the fire. Even without dreams, he never really stopped worrying about Phil, the hope in his heart outweighing the fear. When he woke, or rather when he was woken up, Dan could tell that it had been hours, and the Wit-- Raine was standing over him, looking just as exhausted as he felt. He shot up, wide awake, but she beat him to it before he could ask the question burning up his throat.  


“He’ll be alright, he just needs to rest for a while longer. Here, drink this, it’ll fix you up, too.” He relaxed immediately, an incredible relief filling him, eclipsing the exhaustion. Dan took the cup of tea she offered, too tired to consider refusing for a second. It tasted like the plain Chamomile his mother made, but as he sipped it every ache in his body slipped away, even the one on his face which he’d forgotten. When he caught sight of himself in a mirror above the fireplace, it was to see the purpling bruise across his cheek and one of his eyes slowly fading.  


“Thank you,” he said to Raine. “For everything.” It felt like he’d never have enough gratitude for everyone around him.  


“That curse wasn’t meant to be his, anyways. Besides, I had a little help.” She continued at his confused look, seeming satisfied with herself. “Magic’s about more than books and spells and herbs, a lot more. It can take the form of many different things and come from anywhere, even without meaning to. Love, too, is a spell, even if it’s not a very traditional one, and you two have one of the strongest bonds I’ve seen in centuries, really. Makes my job a little bit easier.”  


He blinked, nodding in understanding, finding himself less surprised than maybe he should’ve been, from his tiredness or maybe from the fact that him and Phil had always just felt right. They remained in silence for a moment, and he let himself really look at her, look at the witch. She was much younger than he’d expected, maybe just a few years older than him, with dark hair that fanned out all around her and seemed to move of its own accord just the tiniest bit. Though she looked young, her eyes were wise and there was a sort of tiredness about her, too, that felt out of his grasp.  


“Whose curse was it, then?” Dan asked after a moment, curiosity getting the better of him. “Was it his great-great grandfather or something?” He thought back to the scattered evidence that the Lesters had been able to find, how most of the information surrounding something so important had been destroyed and tucked away.  


“It was the first ruler of your kingdom, yes,” sighed Raine, turning to the stare into the green fire. “That was when I was first discovering and honing my abilities, which is why it would be passed down for so long like this. Really sloppy spellwork on my part, sorry, I can do much better now. But that king and I had… a deal, of sorts. This was back when magic was a hell of a lot stronger, more concentrated, you know. My kingdom, Sune, was filled to the brim with magic, and your First King feared it spreading to his newfound lands. And so we agreed that he would not harm my people, though he feared us, if we kept to ourselves. I said yes, because of course I wanted our kingdoms to live in peace, even as more non-magic humans began settling here and I felt a threat in the distance. I thought it would come from the outlands, where there was no one, magic or otherwise. My… my love, she knew otherwise. She was always more cautious, when I rushed into things headfirst. On a journey she saw that your First King was gathering his own forces and trying to work out ways to neutralize our powers, leaving us defenseless, that he was going to betray our deal. She had time to warn me, but not without consequences. When he killed her, I could feel her soul being torn away from mine.” Raine’s voice had tightened at the word love, but now it was flat, delivered completely without emotion, though he saw the way her hands tightened around each other, and he could imagine as easily as breathing how she felt, when he had been so close to it himself.  


“I’m sorry,” he offered, though it couldn’t heal such old wounds, feeling slightly useless for offering such a simple truth. He thought about the royal family’s crest, how it had adorned the cake on the night before Phil’s future had been snatched away from him. The figure boldy holding a sword to an approaching beast, the Beast-Slayer King, was frightening once more, but in an entirely different way than when he’d been a child.  


“It’s alright, I’ve had my own victories. I destroyed any evidence of how to take away our power and I turned the him into what he feared most, though he was much worse off, stuck in that form for every day but one in a month. Actually, your prince sort of got the reverse of that, it’s really very interesting, but I’m not quite sure how it happened…” She sounded a little too curious for a moment, but pulled herself back. “But I never intended to hurt anyone but him. Again, not the best spellwork on my part.”  


“Well… it was pretty rubbish that Phil had to be affected, but that guy had it coming.”  


“Yes, he did. Though I’m sure you know that it wasn’t only my spell on your prince just now. Some pretty tricky magic I was really hoping would stay out of the wrong hands, but what can you do?”  


“Oh yeah. There are some cowards running around trying to keep magic-users from, uh, tricking normal people or something dumb like that. They’ve got this whole justification and everything. But I doubt they’ll be getting anything done for awhile, we had help from some nice pirates.” He thought back to the sheer joy Captain Shih and company had taken in ransacking the dungeon and its guards.  


“In that case, I should expect a few more cases like this from the Queen.” The witch sighed. “I’ll have to make sure I have the right stuff. Not the easiest spell to undo, I had quite a lot of trouble figuring it out.”  


“Well, I feel pretty great, for what it’s worth,” said Phil from where he was resting against the doorway, looking way too proud. Dan let out a strangled sort of yell and flung himself at him, not caring that he’d been very seriously wounded hours before, because that’s his idiot right there.  


“Ow, ow, you’re going to break my ribs, Dan,” Phil laughed, but he was hugging back just as hard. Dan simply held him for a moment, reveling in his presence and never wanting to let go. And then he had a realization and changed his mind very quickly. He pulled back, looking into Phil’s grinning face.  


“Holy shit, can I kiss you?” he asked, the idea that he could just so incredible that his face hurt from smiling so hard.  


“Holy shit, you can,” Phil answered, grinning just as much, and so he did. It wasn’t careful, not when they’d had to wait so long, but it was sweet. Certainly much better than when he’d been twelve, though the bar was pretty low. He held Phil’s face in his hands at last, feeling the press of his lips against his own, and everything felt right.  


“Cough cough,” said Raine, not even attempting a fake cough, and right. They were in someone else’s house. Dan stepped back regretfully, but kept his hand on Phil’s shoulder, because he sure as hell wasn’t letting go, and even if they’d always been open with physical affection, being close now that things had changed was just too good to give up. Raine fake gagged but declared them both ready for travel, and it was just a matter of giving them the right herbs to help with the healing process and they were all set.  


Before he knew it, Dan found them on Raine’s porch again, which may or may not have had small amounts of blood on it, thanking her as many times as she’d let them. She refused money, or public thanks, or any sort of payment, just that they try and stay out of trouble and let the Queen know that she didn’t leave the house enough to know any possible partners for her heir. She apologized again for accidentally cursing Phil, but he shrugged it off and joked about no longer being able to glow in the dark. The brands of the spell were gone now, his skin clear from the deep lines of magic, his ears, teeth, and eyes back to normal and Phil kept distractedly running a hand over his neck where his gills would have been.  


He had the feeling that, to both of them, it was still a little unreal that they’d actually done it. The goal that had seemed so distant for so long and then suddenly spiraled into a life or death impossibility had finally been achieved, and he realized he hadn’t even thought about the return journey. It was time to go home.  


So to home they turned, and, as they set off down the path out of the Witch’s Woods, Dan felt Phil’s hand in his own and considered the spells of the heart.


	6. Epilogue

As life often went, things were not all wrapped up perfectly with an expensive bow, no matter how satisfying Dan found that mental image. The curse had been broken, but in the scattered shards of it there was a question: what now? As they sailed back home, this time on a large royal vessel because discreteness be damned, the answer first reared its head, different than he’d expected. Phil wanted to let Cygnus know the truth.  


“I think they deserve to know, really, and that way we’d be able to show them that there’s nothing to be afraid of with magic.” He left the ‘and no one will have to hurt like I did’ unsaid, but it hovered in the air between them nonetheless. Clear light streamed in through the cabin windows, the movements of the boat slightly less jarring this time around, and Dan was hesitant.  


“People might still lash out, even if you’re not cursed anymore. And nobody likes being lied to by the people in charge of ruling them, especially for so long. They might not care that it’s been broken, and even with all the work in Sune to stop those people from spreading fear, you might still be in danger.” Not his favorite truth.  


“I know. But I think I might actually lose it if I have to keep lying to everybody about whatever ‘elite boarding school for young nobles and individuals of esteem’ that I’ve supposedly been at since I was thirteen. Plus nobody in my extended family’s going to believe that I’m actually back from the dead.” He topped it off with air quotes and Dan laughed, but he sort of understood. Of course Phil would want to tell the truth and it could be helpful to those still touched by magic, but he was only so much safer than he would’ve been before. But he was so, so weak to those eyes, and as he felt his resolve weakening he made a mental note to look into anti-hopeful-Phil enchantments.  


“Your parents aren’t going to like it.”  


Phil’s parents did not like it at all. They understood, too, the desire to be honest about something that had held him back for so long and that it could show that the less useful, more palatable magics weren’t always a threat, but that didn’t make the situation any easier. The thing about royal secrets is that they are usually secrets for a reason, and once they become secrets it is generally best for them to stay that way for as long as humanly possible. Martyn especially, as the one set to take on the throne, would be affected if his subjects mistrusted him from the start, even if the lies had been to protect family. Even if it was inconvenient, though, Dan would probably have been mad about being lied to for so long, too, because if something like this had been hidden away, then what else could be kept within the walls of the caste?  


He was the one who suggested a smaller lie mixed in with the truth, since the problem had been bothering him since it was first brought up on the ship. An additional rule to the curse was all, that it must be kept a secret from all those but the bearer’s most trusted family and friends, with the breaking of that rule resulting in death. And, now that the curse was broken, the King and Queen could finally tell everyone the secret they’d been dying to tell. Phil could be an example and live a real, true life once more, the King and Queen wouldn’t take on as much blame for trying to protect their son, and the rest of the kingdom would learn as much of the truth as they could risk. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to be an alright balance.  


Of course, no amount of carefully crafted words could keep the announcement from causing confusion, complaining, and an incredible amount of gossip as the news spread throughout the cities and villages and farms, along with the joy that the youngest prince of Cygnus had returned, if with unexpected news. There were questions and accusations and rumors, but Phil remained calm throughout everything, falling back into his role as a face of the kingdom even when separate from it for so long. He was very careful that no blame came to Raine, carefully explaining the truth behind their First King and how the curse was simply retribution, which caused quite a bit of chaos by itself, seeing as he was viewed heroically throughout the whole kingdom. Most people eventually warmed up to the idea and plans were made to change the official seal of the kingdom, seeing as it was pretty much a lie, but even though it was difficult, none of their truth would have felt right without telling the witch’s half of the story, too. As the accounts of their journey were told, Dan swore he’d never heard so many people say such good things about Sune and its Queen for her help.  


And, as time wore on and people got used to the idea, he even saw a few shops and stands open offering spellwork, potions, or premonitions, many of the owners waving at him as he passed, something he’d never get used to. He heard less stories of dangerous creatures on the edges of the woods and more about the helpful spirits guiding children back home, the old wizard who helped cure a terrible sickness, or the farmer’s wife who protected her entire village’s sheep from nearby predators in the shape of a wolf. Of course, it wasn’t all at once and it wasn’t all easy and it wasn’t all perfect; he still had to hear people, too drunk to be careful with their words, complain that the prince had been a monster right under their noses for so many years and see shops selling protection from malicious spells that did absolutely nothing or, worst of all, learn the stories of people driven out of their towns just for the fear of having magic in them. According to Raine’s letters, not all of the ones trapped or transformed into a magical form had been returned to their original selves yet, and there were still whispers of fear in the minds of people who needed to find blame. But, though far from perfect, things _were _getting better, and if he could drag Phil through a forest when he had an enormous tail and fins for hours, then he could have hope for the future.  
__

__A surprise, though, was that his involvement in the curse-breaking was actually paid attention to rather than just the fact of the curse itself. He suddenly found people stopping him in the street or recognizing him as the prince’s companion, which was very new and very strange. He also got yelled at once for not letting out the secret that, to the kingdom’s knowledge, would have cost Phil his life, but he just managed to power walk away from the very angry woman doing the yelling, and as time wore on things returned to a slightly better normal again. Plus it was nice that, with the many, many, many rumors about his and Phil’s relationship, at least a good chunk of them were true, though they were waiting for a little longer before officially announcing anything so Cygnus would have time to adjust.  
_ _

__And of course, besides just the nameless rest of the kingdom, Dan also had to tell his parents. Not just about where he’d actually been on the trip, but the danger he’d been through, the magic he’d experienced, and his relationship with Phil. It was a lot all at once, and he’d seen the hesitation and doubt in their eyes right away. They weren’t used to magic, and, like he’d been, didn’t entirely trust it, or witches, and certainly not curses. But they knew Phil and trusted Dan, and it only took a little explaining and a bit of time for them to warm up. It probably helped that his mother was overwhelmingly thrilled not just that the prince had returned, but that her son had managed to get into a relationship with him. Her excitement eclipsed any fear or worry, and he had to deflect questions about an engagement and refuse every time she tried to give him her and his dad’s wedding jewels. It wasn’t too bad, though, when he found his family trying to learn, to listen, and to adjust to the parts of the world that they were unfamiliar with.  
_ _

__Now, a little over a year since then, things were finally, finally settling down fully. A year since he’d almost drowned, a year since their quest, a year since the announcements. Time had fluctuated between going very slowly and very fast in those months, Dan thought, though there wasn’t much he could do about it. He stood on the porch of their house and looked out at the quickly expanding garden in the afternoon sun, trying to wrap his head around it. The fact that it was their house by itself was enough to make the entire thing seem unreal, but there he was. It was small and more than a little shabby, definitely when compared to the actual castle, but it was perfect. They’d made it perfect because they were in it, together, and it was theirs. From waking up within its walls to cooking in its kitchen to practicing their waltzes for formal events in the cramped living room, laughing too hard to get it right, it had become perfect. Dan had a feeling that the house held its own magic now that they shared it, though that might have just been wishful thinking.  
_ _

__The cottage was near enough to the mill for Dan to work easily, only a short distance from the castle so that Phil could visit for royal business and to see his family, and within the range of the sea breeze to dance over them. It had taken him some time for him to fall back in love with the ocean, and some time for Phil to learn how to swim again when he had legs, but plenty of days spent at the beach had helped. Even if he’d never forget how deep and cold the water was, it was a friend once more.  
_ _

__He had tried very, very hard not to accept any sort of payment from Phil’s parents for saving his life, since he was really just returning the favor, instead opting anything be given to his parents, but Dan couldn’t resist when they’d offered him the old piano. He’d just felt so bad, thinking of it collecting all that dust up there sadly, and he’d picked up a book of sheet music to teach himself more than the same few songs. Dan played it as often as he could because it filled the whole house with music and seemed to make everything brighter, but for now, he was content to stay outside and watch fondly as Phil planted whatever flower or fruit or weed he’d lugged back from the town.  
_ _

__The garden had been his idea, since they’d had the space, and Dan knew from experience that there was no way to stop him from hoarding plants, but he also knew that if he left everything in Phil’s care their yard would be extremely brown. He was the only one of them who’d actually had experience with growing things and not just looking at them, but that certainly didn’t stop the prince from trying his hardest, and they were quickly running out of room for new vegetables. Still, he managed to keep everything alive and it was more than worth it to see him smile, no matter if they really needed 87 different types of flowers. Plus, he was learning, so hopefully he’d figure it out eventually, but they’d just have to wait and see.  
_ _

__As he watched, leaning against the railing, one of their dogs hurtled towards Phil at maximum velocity just as he sat down, leaping into his lap to lick the dirt off of his face with the other trailing behind. He stopped to roll his eyes as the dog successfully knocked Phil over, making him sprawl not-so-gracefully in the dirt, laughing and trying to push her off of him to no avail. It was ridiculous and the best thing he’d ever seen, a title that, with Phil, changed constantly.  
_ _

__Later, they’d have to get ready for Martyn’s coronation ceremony and greet people and answer questions, but for now, they had time. He had time to think about the fact that this was really his life. He got to wake up next to his best friend every single day, and that was good enough. Phil still paced and rubbed at imaginary lines on his neck on the anniversary of his birthday every month, and sometimes Dan couldn’t look at the ocean or had dreams of walking endlessly through blank woods, a weight on his shoulders he could not bear and not enough time, but that was okay. There would be problems, and fights, and work, but there would be days like this, too. And as long as he had Phil next to him, Dan couldn’t wait for whatever came next._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I was worried that it was too much to immediately give them two dogs, but then I realized that it was what Dan and Phil deserve. I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I'm very proud of both the story and how much time I put into it, so I'm so glad to finally be able to share it with you all! If you have questions, observations, or if this story made you feel anything at all, please comment and let me know! I will be thrilled!!! Thank you so much for reading Seaspell, and I hope that you can find the magic in your life, too! :^)


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